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... ckering torches illuminated the rebel camp. Amber Hesh kept her posture straight despite the aching in her arms and legs. She had no illusions about her situation—she was a hostage, and the rebels were using her as leverage. But that didn’t mean she was powerless.

Her gaze flickered to the other captives. Some were whispering amongst themselves, trying to make sense of their situation. Others sat in defeated silence. Fear was the enemy here. If they let panic take hold, it would only mak ...

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[WSA 2025 ENTRY]“What is this for??”Draven, a Pentagon champion, searches for a real challenge that will test his true strength. However, all his opponents bore him.Then, without warning, he's thrown into a magical world. Here, everything your power, status, and even your worth depends on the color of your Status System I.D.His given goal? Protect the Verdant and lift the curse using his skill, the Veilbreaker.Sounds easy for the likes of him?Think again.Verdants are cursed worse than commoners who have not even the slightest ability!He will bleed every time he lifts a curse!And he has to face beasts, monsters, high-breed animals, higher I.D.s and even gods![You unsealed Naisha skill: Stealth][You obtain Stealth skill.]Challenge accepted!

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The traitor Gu Mang returned to his home kingdom again. Everyone rejoiced in his banishment. It was said the one who hated him most was his closest friend – the cold and stoic Young Master Mo.

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Marry him for a contract, but it is love that supports them to live together.

In order to raise medical expenses for the seriously ill father, she had to sign a contract with a strange man, she would be his wife, and he was responsible for paying for the treatment of her father.

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war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”