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... lan made it even more evident.

Bombay was a city bursting with people, ideas, and dreams, where the scent of fresh pav mingled with the salty air from the Arabian Sea.

For some, it was a city of hope, a place to start anew after India's independence.

For others, like Bal Keshav Thackeray, it was a city slowly slipping away from its original spirit, its soul being buried under the weight of rapid migration and changing demographics.

Thackeray, at 25 years old, was ...

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“When you see this line of words, the world game has begun.”

“This is the [Live Action Global Live Game] to redeem Zhai Xing.”

“Here, all players travel through the world together. You can become hope in the crisis-ridden apocalypse, witness reincarnation in the future controlled by androids, and fight for the camp in villages where werewolves and gods confront each other…”

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“Some people say that I am a traitor sent by the organizer, an incompetent leader.”

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As a princess that could not wield magic, Princess Daphne’s only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne gets kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realizes that she’s in over her head.

She had heard of these cursed mountains before― rocky terrain, freezing temperatures, and the land was ruled by a man feared by many within the continent.

King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North.

Even though she had never met him before, tales were spread of King Atticus’s ruthlessness. Some said he was a monster, others claimed he was the devil himself, but whatever the story was, everyone knew of the man who had powers beyond anyone’s imagination. He could topple armies and crumble nations with just one wave of his hand, aided by what others rumored to be a cursed obsidian ring.

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

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