Fire Mage - Chapter 6: Suspicion

There was a time where I was summoned to a different world. I spent more than a year as a Priestess from a different world. I fulfilled my role and decided to return to my original world. Before leaving, I confessed my feelings to my escort knight. And from there I was heartbroken. After returning to the original world for a year and half, I was summoned again. What? Apparently this time, nobody summoned me. I was sent out to a great extent and have a lost love. I cannot face anyone now! No one knows that I was a former Priestess and I can only quickly return to my original world. Even so, it does not seem to work out very well…

The beauty and the taboo existing together.Unattainable and unacceptable.An existence only to be admired from afar.A hero of legends but a also a girl of tragedy.Shining like a star in the sky, all alone, forever…-But that’s too sad isn’t it?Our MC, an ordinary middle aged man, is an author that wrote books and after pouring 2 years of hard work in a book, his hardwork finally bore fruit as his book got the second prize in the regional awards.A fruit that he couldn't eat.Why?Because he along with hard work, he also poured his piss somewhere he shouldn't and died.Exactly how?Read the prologue, and you will find out~But of course, that's only the start, as the next time he woke up...He was in another world.

Skyscraper's rooftop.Fang Cheng is sweating heavily, relentlessly training.1000 airborne clapping push-ups.1000 two-finger push-ups.1000 one-arm pull-ups.1000 one-arm handstand push-ups.1000 single-leg squats.Plus, holding a dragon flag and a Baki plank for one hour.Looking in the mirror, Fang Cheng shows a satisfied expression.“All six skills are maxed out, I can finally synthesize the mythic talent, Asura's body.”Neon-lit chaotic dark city, countless crimson eyes lurking around.Conglomerates, serial killers, cultists, gene-modified beings, rebel groups…Fang Cheng, with his panel, intrudes into this seemingly ordinary mysterious world.Gaining experience and cultivating through push-ups.Fitness, boxing, sanda, parkour, meditation, breathing, qigong…Each seemingly ordinary skill achieves unimaginable heights.Pushing human limits ever higher, crushing every so-called “monster.”Until — becoming the god of the new world!

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.