Dominion of The Beast Masters - Chapter 218: The Blessing of Red Eyes

The protagonist, a renowned gamer/YouTuber aka [TorchDancer] is a master of the game “Tril Trilo Trilogy.” When offered a chance to playtest the prequel, “Part 0,” he jumps at the opportunity. But a twist of fate plunges him into the game itself, transforming him into the series’ ultimate villain, Frank Wonderstein. Trapped in a monstrous body, he must navigate a dangerous world, unraveling the secrets of the game and his own destiny. Can a hero become a villain? Or can a villain find redemption? Well, you’ll just have to read to find out.

For his sake, she was willing to abandon her career as the best actress and be his wife. With her own network, money and unscrupulous methods, she helped him rise to the top of the world. He, on the other hand, held another woman in his embrace and kicked her away with no mercy. It turned out that all he ever wanted was her rare blood type, her six-month-old child’s cord blood. It was her life… When she opened her eyes again, she returned to her 20-year-old self. Time repeated and her life rewound. In this life, she would live well.

I watch him, his green eyes brimming with concern as he gently massages my scarred leg. The sensation is both soothing and a stark reminder of my own inadequacy. The once-feared Crimson General, a symbol of power and invincibility, is now nothing but a frail shadow of his former self. I’ve been abandoned, left to decay in this forsaken place, my family and comrades long forgotten. Darkness had become my only solace, and I had resigned myself to it.Then he arrived, a beacon of light in my endless night. His presence, his care—it’s more than I ever deserved. Yet, I find myself clinging to him with an intensity that borders on madness. I hate that I need him so desperately, that his every action and word have become my lifeline. It consumes me, a torment I can't escape.“You don't have to do this. Please, don’t do this. I’m nothing. You deserve better. Leave. Please,” I beg, my voice trembling with raw anguish, the very words tearing me apart.He continues his work, seemingly unaffected by my pleas.“Why are you here? Look at me! I’m nothing.”Desperation and anger swell within me, mixing into a maelstrom of anxiety. I can’t comprehend the emotions coursing through me.“You're my alpha, where else would I be?” he responds softly, his gaze unwavering, as if my pleas were mere background noise.My heart races, torn between overwhelming relief and paralyzing dread. In that moment, I realize the truth: you would have to tear him from my cold, lifeless arms. I’m never letting go.General Thorne, betrayed and broken, finds new life and love with Omega Noelle, who nurses him back to health. Their deepening bond reveals Thorne’s softer side, offering a chance at happiness. Unfortunately, Thorne’s past soon catches up with them, threatening their newfound peace.

Once upon a time, there was a makeup artist who possessed outstanding skills and top-notch aesthetic judgement. When he did makeup for various stars, he could embellish sharpness onto the smooth vases that lacked edges, and he could make models who exceeded the boundaries of aesthetics to appear delicate and soft, more approachable to people.

Male stars loved to request him, for he had a thorough understanding of masculine charm in particular, and the makeup he did was never garishly slathered in oils or powders, instead exuding a natural, dashing air of elegance.

Female stars loved to request him, because not only was he excellent in his skills, he was also everyone’s closest confidant; when they chatted, he could easily hold any conversation, and his mouth would be tightly sealed, never allowing anyone’s privacy to slip out.

Although this person was quite young, after getting by in the makeup industry the past few years, he was virtually considered as a distinguished personality in his profession, and would be referred to as a ‘master’ wherever he went.

But he had a terrifying secret. He needed to carefully tread on thin ice and couldn’t expose even the slightest traces; otherwise, nobody would invite him to work ever again, and nobody would apply to the classes he led anymore.

—He was a straight man.

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