The Demon King Seems to Conquer the World - Chapter 116: (Self Edited) Return

[No heroine, no emotional line, no ambiguity, a lot of private settings, a comprehensive world view, I am an organization. 】

[There is a story about an undercover police officer with real wine, there is a possibility of death for the red party, and both Bourbon and Scotland are real wine]

“Name.”

“Osamu Dazai.”

“gender.”

“A man without a doubt.”

“age.”

“14.”

“The code name of the Black Organization.”

“Cahor.”

“Why did you join the Black Organization?”

“Well, because I’m the adopted son of that gentleman.”

[This article is also known as Osamu Dazai of COS. I recognized a thief as a father in the Conan crew. I am not disqualified in this world. I am full of fighting skills. I appeared in Japan the next second at the comic exhibition and became a three-year-old slaughter]

[There will be other vests. ][The elegant party and the gangsters stay away from me][Writing to play, don’t gangster]

- Description from novelbuddy

If you like this fanfiction, you will definitely like our other fanfiction, so feel free to visit our profile to read our new fanfiction:[Bleach: Love and Bonds Make Me Stronger]---Waking up in a mysterious world, August finds himself grappling with the dilemma of whether he can survive in a seemingly beautiful yet deeply dark world. Fortunately, leveraging the luck of his nine generations, he manages to obtain the Gate of Babylon belonging to a certain goldenman...With the Gate of Babylon in his pocket, August decides to amass all the treasures available in the world. However, once again, he faces a dilemma... Are girls also treasures? Can he keep them in his Gate of Babylon?

A normal guy gets hit by a truck and isekai'd. Why? Because trucks are apparently some cosmic loophole. He decides to be a dungeon, because it sounds weird and interesting to be one. Is it? Let's find out.

Perhaps the paintings in a museum are subjected to more nonsense than you would hear anywhere else in the world.The language that comes out of an artist’s life is the painting itself. It contains the most ordinary lives that know failure, desire, recoiling in fear, and compromise.Learning is about understanding that language. We miss much of what the paintings speak because there is no way to ask the long-dead painters about the philosophy of their lives.In an alleyway in the residential area of Jongno, there’s a peculiar art gallery. This place enables us to transcend such limitations. By sheer coincidence, I ended up visiting that place and began living an entirely different life.