Doomsday Wonderland - Chapter 1585: Prisoners Under the Steps

A Failed score in the National Examinations was enough to make many youths desolate.Such a score should be the end of any Protagonist.With Parents who didn't love him, and a brother who was hellbent on using him as a stepping Stone, Levon's life was already colorful. Many waited for his Fall.However, there was a saying, that for a few, failure wasn't the end—but the beginning of something darker.“Mr. And Mrs. Belmont, My academy is interested in your son. Don't worry, we have just the place for him.”“Alright. Please, take the troublemaker away!”Levon watched in eerie calm, putting up no resistance.Soon, he thrust into a world completely unfamiliar to him. There was danger, chaos, and the promise of death looming in each corner.“Blood ACADEMY...”It was an odd place… an odd but interesting one.

Hao Yan Che is an immortal and Yuan Gun Gun is a mortal.

Sue Kirin was a loser. Thirty years old with no hope for advancement at his job and no redeeming features except one, Magic. For as long as he could remember Kirin had dedicated his life to practicing the Arcane. Unfortunately, when he was passing down his knowledge to his niece, she lost control of her power resulting in a backlash of vicious energy that resulted in her being sent to the hospital, her life in critical danger.

Karl awoke to find himself shockingly reduced to a crippled Evil God confined within a bottle.The Fischer family had inadvertently become his favored members, sharing a fate connected by blood throughout the generations.They established a secret clan, infiltrated the state, manipulated wars, ascended the God Pantheon stairway, and fought for the honor and future of the family.They were assassins lurking in the shadows, beloved scholars, esteemed priests, powerful dukes, and legends in heroic epics.From budding to robust growth, steampunk evolved; the Spirit Realm descended through dreams; witches and ancient gods stepped forth, and people listened to the lost whispers at their ears.They were both the creators and the enders of stories.Generation after generation, in a continuous succession, they marched forward.“Step over my corpse and go on,” he said.