I Really Didn't Mean To Be The Saviour Of The World - Chapter 1202 -

“Power to accelerate Everything including time!!”.....Damien Harrier was a ruthless small-time gang leader, feared on the streets—until the night he let his guard down. The woman in his bed was a trap, rigged with a bomb by his enemies. She exploded. He died.But death wasn’t the end.He awakens in a nightmarish battle royale where thousands fight for survival under the gaze of the Master of Reincarnation. The rules are simple:Only the top 10 earn a second life.Refusing to kill means ceasing to exist.Your performance determines your talent in your next life.David fights his way through the slaughter, becoming one of the strongest contenders. Then, everything goes dark.When he wakes again, he’s not on Earth anymore. He’s been reborn in a world recovering from an apocalypse, where lords rule over crumbling territories and every person awakens a unique ability at eighteen.Thanks to his past victory, he gains a power like no other—Acceleration, allowing him to bend time itself. Armed with this ability and an evolving gun, he carves his path through war, politics, and abyssal horrors… rising from nothing to become the fastest lord of the apocalypse....want more chapters?help this book reach 50 Gt or 200 power stones for additional one chapter daily..........

Jung Sunwoo was an average man. He had just taken his first job at W&U, a celebrity management company, as a manager. He could finally achieve his dream of being the manager of a world-famous actor or actress. On his way to work, he fell into what appeared to be a lucid dream about his future. As he went on with his day, he realized it may not have simply been a lucid dream.

“If you were the supreme master of the Dao of Immortals, revered by countless beings, able to glimpse life and death, and understand the destiny, what kind of woman would you seek as a partner?”Jiang Feng: “I would marry an eighteen-year-old.”“...do you want to die?”“I'd rather die to marry an eighteen-year-old.”

[COMPLETE] Can a royal Romeo and Juliet find their happy ending?

Ayleth, Princess of Zenithra, is secretly trained in hand-to-hand combat, and collects swear words she doesn't know how to use. During the Festival of Peace, in which every royal son on the continent will be at the castle for a month, she is instructed by her parents to find a husband. Yet, Ayleth has never even been kissed—until the very first ball, when she meets the man in the Lion mask.

Etan is a seasoned warrior, and the Prince of Summitras. He attends the Festival hoping to find a powerful wife who will help him conquer the dark sorcery of their bloodsworn enemies, the Kingdom of Zenithra. But at the very first ball, he discovers the masked woman who captures his heart is the Heir to the evil empire.

Ayleth and Etan face an impossible battle. Will their love survive? Or will their parents' dark dealings keep them apart forever?

[Mature content. No sexual violence.]

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“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

“No, Ayleth. This changes nothing.”

“How can you say that? It changes everything!” She was horrified to realize she was crying.

“Ayleth, please.” His voice cracked on the plea and she stared at him, shoving her mask up and off, despite how it would pull her hair out of the beautiful twist the maid had managed for her.

His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.

She had met her One. And he was the son of her bloodsworn enemy.

She stared at him as he stepped forward again, offering both hands, palm up. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Hold my hands. This is real, Ayleth. I don’t know how it happened, but this is real. Please don’t deny it.”

She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

“Please, Ayleth.”

“I cannot deny it,” she whispered.