Industrial Strength Magic - Chapter 258: We Tried

“I am a benevolent god. If you worship me well, maybe I will save you… from the calamities I send.”Zayne was just an ordinary guy, when he was picked through a random draw to become a host of the God System. Having accepted the offer - could that even be considered a choice, when his soul would have been exterminated otherwise? - he was transported to a different world, tasked with gaining believers and growing his cult, earning points from their faith. Once he gained enough believers and points, he would be able to rise to a higher position in the Pantheon…However.A ‘life’ as a deity turned out to be far less glorious than he would have thought. Centuries later, he is still stuck in his first world. Fulfilling prayers day in and day out, as a mere consciousness floating in nothingness, alone with the system. He cannot rank up, he cannot move on, and he cannot even vent his frustration well, because he’s always short on points!And his believers are not even loyal, still worshiping other gods as well!In a moment of distraction, he makes a mistake, which initiates his descent.Not wanting to waste the points he has already spent, Zayne decides to wander the world for a while, posing as his own prophet, using this opportunity to spread his faith… And more importantly, vent all his pent-up anger, and have fun along the way!Randomly doing whatever he wants, he accidentally discovers a path he could take as a god: sending calamities, and then rescuing people from them - of course as long as they pray!And so his journey to the top finally begins.

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.

I complained that the play script in this other world was terrible. But then they told me, ‘If you don’t like it, write it yourself.'” I got so mad that I plagiarized the lives of famous people and made them into scripts. ⌠Your Highness, I still have twelve battleships.⌡ ⌠The die is cast.⌡ ……But it ended up being way more popular than I expected. Somebody, help me!!!

Su Shi was once a platinum-level host with the highest survival rate. One day, his misdeeds of constantly shifting his blame onto others was found out and reported. Convicted of violating the rules, he was bound to an Automatic Blame Shouldering System and exiled to lower-level worlds.

Now, not only does he have to take the blame from others and shoulder it himself, he must also carry that blame and rush to his death in order to earn enough points to quickly unbind from the system.

Su Shi only wants to get rid of the system by shouldering the blame until death. However, he finds that trying to hold onto the blame is even harder than passing it on, and rushing to his death is even harder than running for his life.

As Su Shi lies dying in the protagonist’s arms with red-rimmed eyes and a weak and helpless countenance, an uninvited third guest suddenly rushes out to explain the misunderstanding for him.

Su Shi: “I beg you, just let me shoulder this blame, otherwise, it will all be a waste of effort…”

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