MTL - Please Sink In Happiness - Chapter 288

It’s a story that happened long, long ago, in a continent far, far away, about gods and mortals, sword and magic, war and peace, and of course love and hatred.

Amon was a poor miner’s son in a remote town in the kingdom of Hittite. Along with the discovery of a marvelous gem, his fate was changed. People on this land called it Gods’ Tear. But wait, what were the gods? It was said that the gods created the world. Then who created the gods?

Forced by the tantalizing fate, Amon had to struggle to find out the truth behind this world of magic and gods……

Dying at a young age after a disappointing life. Mat thought he hit the jackpot when he got reincarnated on a tropical island as a baby. Here, exploring mysterious lands and learning magic are a reality. The world of Elydes is beautiful and magical, wild and savage. While the Guide is impartial to all, people are not. Mat has the lowest starting point possible, and those like him rarely go far. To not let his humble birth define his life, he'll need to find the determination to grow stronger and delve into the mysteries of Elydes.

As a human, I should be miles away from any large shifter event. Especially the annual Mate Hunt.A hunt for mates. Doesn't that sound barbaric? Yeah, it's as bad as it sounds.Several packs in the area gather as their newly minted adult wolves shift. Females are let into the woods first and are given an hour's head start, just before sundown. Then it's time for the males, ostensibly thrown out to hunt down the scent of their fated (or chosen) mates.It isn't an event for the faint of heart, and it's definitely no place for someone who can't shift. So why the fuck am I here, running my little human heart out, chased by what sounds like an entire pack of wolves? Great question. I don't know, either.But I'm here.Surrounded by howls fueled by the thrill of the hunt.Feet bleeding. Lungs freezing.I am so fucked.----R18. Dark themes, including but not limited to: Murder, attempted murder, a stack of dead bodies, betrayal, mild sociopathy, an ML who appears to bathe in red flags despite his favorite color being green, an unwarranted hatred of blueberry muffins, and pillow thievery.

All I ever wanted was for famous detectives like Sherlock Holmes or Arsène Lupin to appear in my dreams and share their wisdom. But instead, why am I hearing the voices of notorious serial killers in my head, guiding me to solve a string of mysterious cases?