The Ancestor of our Sect Isn’t Acting like an Elder - Chapter 168.2

Crimson Vale Academy—where reputation is currency, and failure is a stain you wear on your sleeve.Behind gothic walls and spotless uniforms, students aren't just educated—they're measured, ranked, and pitted against each other in a brutal meritocracy. Privileges are earned, not given. The strong rise. The weak vanish.Enter Kairon Vale, a transfer student marked Rank D—the bottom of the bottom. No badge. Just a stitched black fang, branding him as “Obsidian”—a warning to others.In a system where points dictate your value, Obsidian-ranked students claw for every opportunity to ascend into the prestigious Golden or Platinum ranks—where comfort, power, and influence await. But for most, it’s a losing battle.Yet Kairon isn’t here to fit in, impress, or play by their rules. Cold, calculating, and impossible to read, he watches the system… and waits. Because while the academy judges worth by numbers and names—he understands something deeper:Everyone wears a mask. And every mask can be cracked.Let the games begin.

A genius inventor dies and awakens in his younger self's body... but not quite. This isn't his original younger self-it's an alternate version from a reality where the supernatural is real.To make matters even more chaotic, he discovers that someone has decided he is the successor to Solomon. Now, he possesses the power to enslave devils. Armed with his intellect and newfound abilities, it's time to spark a worldwide revolution... starting from his garage!---Tags: Neutral-Evil MC (enslavement, selfish MC), Harem (of course), Inventions, Technological Progress, Sacred Gear Creation, AU DxD Universe (part of Dragon's Omniverse).This fanfic is a STEAMROLLER, with the main focus on the MC's development and his technological innovations, as well as their impact on the world. If you're looking for drama, suspense, or epic battles with no real purpose, this isn't the story for you.

The Night Has Come, and kermesinus moon ascends in the sky.Hoarse whispers flow at the street corners, and brass steam machines spew out bloody mist.Your brain is singing a hymn, eyes are chanting a melody.Skin cracks, and flesh buds swell.Amidst the Mist, the wall of flesh that has devoured thousands of corpses wails endlessly—“Weep not, our players don't bite, they just want to play with you.”Annan, the lone strategist, the top player, the savior of the mist-covered continent, the leader of the Thirteen Saints, the friend of the Twelve True Gods, the king of pioneers, “the Just”, the Gatekeeper of the Fourth Calamity, the uncrowned deity, advised kindly.

Year 2056, in a city in the Yuan Jiang Su Jin area. On top of a ruined, shattered six story residential apartment sits a teenager wearing a combat vest, militaristic trousers, and alloyed battle boots. On his back is a hexagonal shield and equipped is a blood-shadow battle knife. He sits there silently on the edge of the roof. At this time, the sparkling sky was shining and there was a refreshing breath within the air that blew towards him. However, there was only silence within the ruined, deserted city, with an occasional howl that makes your heart skip a beat.