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... recognized this name.


But that was a long time ago…


Back then, Celecia was a young man named “Thoreau Nick” who followed “Teacher Vladmir” in Winter’s Hand. As a reserve member of Winter’s Hand, she had of course come into contact with the Grand Duke’s son.


Of course… considering her identity back then, even if she did meet Annan, they definitely weren’t close.


Even so, she could still sense the captivating [magnetic allure] of “Annan”.


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One late-night run changed Aila’s life forever after getting caught up in a battle between werewolves and hunters. She is suddenly kidnapped by said hunters and finds out secrets about her past and her future as she embarks on a journey to find out who or what she truly is. Issues arise one after the other when she finally escapes the hunters grasp, only to be taken in by the ferocious Alpha of the Silver Crescent Pack. Unlike most who fear him, Aila challenges his authority every step of the way as she learns more about herself and the dominant, possessive Alpha who tries to claim her. Will heads collide in a battle of will, or can they work together and help keep the hidden world of creatures safe from the hunters? Join Aila on her journey of rediscovery, love, laugh and cry along with her on this action-packed, steamy romance novel. ----- Gold Tier Winner in #161 Writing Prompt Contest - Shapeshifters. ------ *** SNEAK PEAK *** [ MATURE CONTENT ] “Eyes up here, Aila.” He snapped; his harsh voice made her look into his eyes, and she was immediately trapped under his stone-cold gaze. She couldn’t move her eyes away from his as he stepped closer to her, his movements slow as though he was ready to pounce on her, his prey. Without thinking, she stood up from her position, prepared to bolt, but he grabbed her and pinned her hands against the bed. He moved his knee forwards, parting her legs that resisted only for a second before allowing his knee entry. He pushed it slowly into the spot between her thighs, making her gasp from the sudden contact. “Do you like disobeying me, Aila?” He growled; Aila was confused for a moment until she remembered how easily she defied his commands. Was he really still angry from earlier? But when she searched his face for an answer, she soon found it. He was definitely mad from earlier. “To be quite honest, I do. It puts you in your place,” Aila smirked when she met his blazing eyes. He brought his face down closer to hers, the pressure from his knee in between her legs increased, making her bite her bottom lip. “Wrong answer,” He growled before biting her lip apart from her teeth.

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Li Wensheng transmigrated to an era where all energies were returning and every citizen practiced martial arts.Here, champions focus on martial arts mastery, becoming physically peerless as they honed their spirit. They would also seek superior weapons, including unbreakable war axes, or keen blades that could cut a giant tree with a single swing.Even so, Li Wensheng learned Immortal Arts from the very start! Though his scrawny form was exceedingly inconspicuous at first, he wielded Immortal Arts to smash long blades with his bare hands and crush giant hammers!Li Wensheng was flying everywhere on his sword while others were busy trying to surpass the limits of human speed. He could kill with a leaf or flower he plucked while others requested blacksmiths to hone their weapons. He cooked medicinal pellets with his cauldron, brewing Yuan Pellets that ascend cultivation while others trained their bodies to strengthen themselves.Martial arts champions: “Why aren’t you using any weapons?”Li Wensheng smiled, two of his fingers casting an immortal technique: Ten Thousand Swords Retrogression!At his words, every sword behind everyone’s back took to the skies without hope of control, gathering behind Li Wensheng into a rain of swords that covered the skies!This is a world where I alone cultivate immortality while everyone else trains in martial arts!

Toaru Majutsu no Index: New TestamentVolume 18, Afterword
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The Third World War has been ended by the efforts of Kamijou Touma. With that, he vanished. With the Magic Side regrouping, the Sabbath for their followers has arrived.

In the headquarters of the Science Side, Academy City’s strongest Level 5 Esper Accelerator has washed his hands off the “Darkness.” Along with Last Order and Misaka Worst, his days pass by peacefully with no sign of GROUP.

Hamazura Shiage has formed a new ITEM with Kinuhata, Takitsubo and Mugino. Peace has come to the hands of the alumni who have “graduated” from Academy’s Dark Side at last… at least until a new evil “first year student” appears before them.

— This is a follow up to the popular Toaru Majutsu no Index light novel series, where Kamachi-Sensei has promised to deliver new premises and give a totally new flavor to the fights and plot developments

The Omnistore SystemChapter 492: Equally embarrassing regalia (R-18)
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“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

……………………………………………………………

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