Unison Leather Jacket

**Mature Content Warning** This novel contains morally bankrupt decisions, unapologetically villainous behavior, corporate warfare, system abuse, woman-stealing, protagonist-trampling, psychological manipulation, and occasional spicy entanglements—some consensual, others complicated. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In a world eerily similar to Earth—only where megacorporations rule entire cities and states like feudal lords—Vincent Cornelius wakes up in a soft bed beside a plump beauty. Reincarnated into the body of a rich, arrogant CEO in the gleaming city of Autumnvale, Vincent soon discovers he’s not just any rich patriarch—he’s a “villain father”, the kind destined to be humiliated, ruined, and killed so that his pathetic son, Lucas, can become a stepping stone for some arrogant, heaven-defying, cliché cultivation protagonist. But fate doesn’t know what it’s dealing with. Because Vincent isn't here to follow the script—he’s here to rewrite it. Armed with the Corporate Villain Expansion System, Vincent earns Villain Points for every time he defies the story’s “fated path”: Let the "hidden young master" stay hidden? +300 Villain points Humiliate the trash protagonist who awakened a divine bloodline? +500 VP ‘Educating’ his own useless son? +100 Luck Points! Giving female lead a ‘taste’ of reality? +1000VP +200LP Skills, poisons, underhanded deals, reputation-crushing press leaks—he can buy it all from the system, as long as he plays the role of the perfect villain… and wins. In a land where cultivation powers are monopolized by corporations, and destiny is rigged in favor of cookie-cutter protagonists, Vincent must grow his mid-tier family business into a corporate empire through any means necessary that can crush fated heroes and hostile corporations beneath its polished leather shoes. The world wants him dead. The story demands he lose. But Vincent Cornelius didn’t reincarnate to be anyone’s footnote. He’s about to prove that in this world, the real golden finger is a hostile takeover. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Disclaimer (Filed Personally by Vincent Cornelius): If, by some cosmic accident, any names, corporations, or highly sensitive trade empires mentioned in this story resemble real-world entities—rest assured, it’s entirely coincidental. I am far too busy conquering fictional markets to bother with actual ones. No offense is intended. No lawsuits, either. Unless you’re a protagonist. In which case… file away. I'll be waiting—with a better lawyer and a hostile takeover plan. This is fiction. Relax. Or invest. E-Mail- xxvincentcorneliusxx@gmail.com

Samantha never expected to find magic in her hometown, let alone in a dimly lit bar on a rainy Tuesday night. Yet here she was, perched on a barstool at the Black Swan, her world about to tilt on its axis. The air thrummed with an otherworldly energy she couldn't quite place. Ethereal dancers moved like smoke across the floor, their bodies fluid and mesmerizing. As Samantha nursed her drink, she felt the weight of curious stares prickling her skin. That's when she saw him. Marcus. A name she didn't know yet, but one that would soon be etched into her very soul. Their eyes locked across the crowded room, and Samantha's breath caught in her throat. He moved with predatory grace, all lean muscle and barely restrained power. Their first interaction was as intoxicating as it was bewildering. One moment, he was her gallant protector, rescuing her from an overly aggressive drunk. The next, his eyes hardened to chips of ice as he snarled, "Stupid girl," before melting into the shadows. Samantha's mind reeled, but her body hummed with an excitement she couldn't explain. Little did she know, this encounter was merely the first step into a world beyond her wildest fantasies – a realm where vampires ruled the night and pain blurred exquisitely with pleasure. As she delved deeper into this hidden society, Samantha found herself drawn to the intoxicating blend of power, submission, and supernatural allure. The crack of a whip, the whisper of leather, the exquisite sting of fangs – each sensation pushed her boundaries and ignited desires she never knew existed. But with every ecstatic high came the sobering reality of danger. Vampire politics were as deadly as they were intricate, and Samantha soon realized she was a pawn in a game where the stakes were life, death, and eternal servitude. As she left the Black Swan that night, Samantha couldn't shake the feeling that she stood on the precipice of something life-changing. She had no idea how right she was, or how deeply she would fall into a passionate, dangerous dance with forces beyond her imagination. The real question was: in this world where pleasure and peril intertwined so intimately, would she emerge empowered... or lose herself completely?

Stellar Fragments: When Steam Meets the Void, Who Will Light the Last Star? The morning mist over Port Belen reeks of rust. Zhou Mingrui never expected a crumpled oilcloth bundle, scavenged from a dockside jump, to tear open a rift to the Astral Plane. But when he unwraps it—a leather-bound book with a seven-pointed star embossed on its cover, its pages swirling with constellations—he feels a primal pull, like the stars themselves are whispering his name. This is 1873, and Port Belen is a city teetering between progress and chaos. Steam engines roar, but the clocks tick backward. Corpses in morgues scribble "Eclipse Prayers." Dockworkers go mad, screaming of a "whale with a thousand eyes." All roads lead to Stellar Fragments, a forbidden text rumored to hold the key to stopping the Astral Leviathan—a colossal entity slumbering in the void, its awakening marked by the "Void Solstice": when seven stars align over Port Belen, and reality itself begins to unravel. "You have the Starwatcher’s mark," says Claire, the scarred astrologer of the Night Owl Society, sliding the book across a creaky oak table. Her brass bracelets clink with constellations. "The last Starwatcher vanished a decade ago, leaving only this warning: When the seven stars kiss the Void, the Leviathan wakes. Only the Starwatcher can anchor reality—by becoming part of the stars themselves." But Zhou is no hero. Just a grad student of 19th-century occultism, now trapped in a game of cosmic stakes: A steam-powered astrolabe explodes in his hands, its needle pointing to "Void." A noble heiress’s "spirit pigeons" grow feverish, pecking at the sky where the Leviathan’s "void eyes" glow. The city’s Eclipse Value—measuring the breach between worlds—creeps up: 0.01%, 0.03%, 0.05%... In the flickering light of an old church basement, the Night Owl Society gathers. Seven "Astral Artifacts" lie scattered: a moonstone gear humming with pale light, a cracked whistle that silences mad machinery, a pocket watch frozen mid-tick… Five more remain. Without them, the Leviathan’s shadow will consume Port Belen. But Stellar Fragments holds a final, blood-chilling clue: "To bind the stars, the Starwatcher must bleed." That night, the Leviathan rises. Its gargantuan form breaches the mist, scales glinting with countless eyes, each one staring at Zhou Mingrui—and the book clutched in his hands. He grips Stellar Fragments, recalling his professor’s words: "Occultism isn’t about controlling the cosmos. It’s about finding light in the dark." Now, with nothing but flesh and starlight as his weapons, Zhou must decide: Will he become a star to stop the void… or be swallowed by it?

Suddenly, the door burst open, flying a meter away from its position. A figure stood at the center of the doorway, his chest heaved heavily. His sharp claws glistened in the dim light. His raven black hair was ruffled, and his eyes were silvery grey. “Master…” I muttered, a small smile curved on my lips. ‘He came at last.’ The temperature dropped as his overbearing aura crept into every corner of the room. Damon didn’t charge or growl. He just walked forward slowly, calmly, as if he had all the time in the world. But something about him felt like the calm before a storm. “Close your eyes,” he said. His voice was so calm, as if everything was alright. Then came a sharp, horrifying sound like thick fabric tearing. A blood-chilling cry followed. “STOP! PLEASE! I didn’t touch her… I was wrong… please…!” Erik wailed. But another snap came, followed by a heavy thud against the ground.  “Touch what belongs to me…” Damon murmured. His voice was low, steady, and terrifying. “…And this is what you get.” A long silence followed. Then, slow footsteps echoed. “You’re safe now,” he said. He covered my body with his jacket and carried me out. The candle behind us flickered once more, casting one last glow on Erik’s bloodied remains… before it went out. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When Ember opened her eyes, she was no longer the powerful, independent woman she once was. Instead, she woke up in the fragile, abused body of a lowly Omega, destined to be nothing but a breeder for the Alphas. Her escape attempt didn’t get her far. Instead, it led her straight into the path of Damon Blackthorn, the ruthless Lycan King feared by all. Sold like a slave by her own father, Ember becomes the property of a man with a frozen heart and a violent temper. But beneath her submissive mask lies something more: a cunning mind and a will that refuses to break. Now, in a world ruled by dominance, power, and ancient bloodlines, Ember must do more than just survive. She must outsmart a king. She must earn the loyalty of the very people who scorn her. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll bring the Alpha to his knees.

At Houston University's elite campus in Mayfair City, two worlds collide through the lives of Gerald Martinez and Danny Blackwood. Gerald, a scholarship student from the wrong side of town, navigates the marble halls in his thrift store clothes while his dark curls frame a face hardened by necessity. His worn sneakers echo differently against the polished floors than the Italian leather of his classmates. Danny Blackwood represents everything Gerald isn't—trust fund privilege wrapped in designer suits, a Patek Philippe gleaming on his wrist as he slides into his Lamborghini. The heir to a financial empire, Danny moves through university life with the casual arrogance of someone who's never known want. The catalyst for their collision is Xavier Chen, Gerald's former girlfriend who traded love for luxury when she realized Gerald's potential couldn't match her appetite for Hermès bags and Christian Louboutin heels. Now draped on Danny's arm, she's everything Gerald lost and everything Danny effortlessly possesses. Caught between them stands Naomi Ashworth, the conglomerate heiress whose friendship with Gerald puzzles their social circle. While Alice Montgomery, the school's untouchable beauty goddess, watches from her pedestal alongside Danny's inner circle—Yuri and class president Blondie—Gerald finds support in his dormitory under Rick's guidance and his loyal friend Clinton. As tensions escalate between the dormitories—Rick's working-class fortress and Ivar's white-haired kingdom of privilege—the university becomes a battleground where relationships fracture along lines of wealth, loyalty, and ambition. In Mayfair City's first-class restaurants and boutiques, every interaction carries the weight of class warfare disguised as college drama.

[Trigger Warning: This dark fantasy romance contains mature themes.] --- SYNOPSIS: •A WORLD BUILT ON LIES• Long ago, humans lived unaware of the supernatural beings hidden among them—werewolves with their primal instincts, witches whispering spells in the dark, and elves with their ancient, watchful eyes. For centuries, they coexisted in fragile silence. Then, everything shattered. Near the shadow-drenced woods of the Shadow pack kingdom, human traveler stumbled upon a gruesome scene: an old woman’s lifeless body, her skin ashen, her wounds gaping like accusations. A few paces away lay a dead werewolf, its throat ripped open, its muzzle still flecked with blood. The truth was undeniable—monsters walked among them. Fear ignited war. Humans, armed with fire and steel, hunted the supernatural races. Witches and elves were dragged into the slaughter, their homes burned, their people butchered. The bloodshed raged until King Alfred V of the Amethyst Kingdom stood before the four Werewolf Kings—Silverhowl, Crimsonheart, Shadow, and Wildfire—and offered a deal drenched in poison. A sacrifice for peace. Every twenty years, each human family would surrender a daughter to the werewolves. And in return, the future Alpha Kings must wed a human—or the war would reignite. The werewolves agreed. The witches and elves retreated, their hatred festering like an open wound. The world remained fractured, its peace a fragile lie. --- •THE PROPHECY OF FIRE• In the hidden Blaze Tribe, where crimson eyes burned like embers, the seer Prophetia foresaw annihilation. "Our people will fall," she rasped, her voice trembling. "But from the ashes, a girl will rise—the one who will bring true peace… and the one they will slaughter for it." The tribe made a desperate pact. They would cast a spell—a curse of forgotten memory—erasing their existence from the world’s mind. Their souls would be the price, but their legacy would live on in Ovelia, the child of prophecy. The night the Blaze Tribe fell, Ovelia’s parents hid her in the whispering forest, their hands shaking as they sealed a goddess—Firera—inside her infant body. Then, they turned to face their doom. --- •FATE’S CRUEL WHISPER• Ace Draven—half-werewolf, half-witch prince of Silverhowl—had never believed in destiny. Until he found a crying infant in the forest. His wolf, Fenrir, howled in recognition. A crimson thread shimmered between them—mates. But Firera, watching from within Ovelia’s soul, snarled. "She’s a child. This is too soon." With a flick of her wrist and spell, she tore the memory from Ace’s mind, leaving only an empty ache in his chest. --- •TWENTY YEARS LATER: A SACRIFICE IGNITES• Ovelia has spent her life as a slave, raised by the cruel mayor of Timberline Village—a man who would gladly sacrifice her to spare his own daughter. The night of the sacrifice, the air reeks of damp earth and iron. Torches flicker as the werewolves emerge from the shadows. And then—Ace Draven steps forward. Their eyes meet. Fenrir *howls*. Ace’s claws unsheathe, his breath ragged. "You…" He doesn’t understand why his wolf is clawing at his ribs, why his pulse hammers at the sight of this stranger. But the bond between them burns hotter than vengeance. Ovelia doesn’t know him. He doesn’t recognize her. And yet, their souls scream in unison.

Genre: Billionaire Romance / Obsession / Corporate War / Emotional Drama • A sharp-tongued small-town girl falls into the dangerous love of the most powerful oil mogul in Mexico. But when she becomes the target of his enemies—and his obsession—she must decide if love is worth losing herself… or if he’s worth betraying. • Joseph León was the most feared name in oil — Mexico’s oil tycoon with empires that stretched across oceans. His name opened doors in Dubai, whispered in Geneva, and commanded boardrooms in Texas. But in the private sanctum of his glass-walled penthouse above Mexico City, the only thing that brought him to his knees… was Green. Green Ariza. The sharp-tongued, warm-eyed girl from the southeast — who didn’t care for oil, power, or the billions in his offshore accounts. And that terrified Joseph more than any corporate war. She stormed into his office, her heels clicking furiously against the Italian marble. Her worn leather bag slammed onto the chair with finality. “I want to talk to you, Joseph!” she snapped. Behind his desk, Joseph was mid-call with a venture capitalist from Qatar, trying to lock in a deal worth $1.3 billion. He held up one finger without looking up — only for a second — then paused. His eyes met hers. Sharp. Furious. Tired of something. He ended the call. “I’ll speak to you later,” he said calmly, before the voice on the other line could protest. “Yes, I know it’s urgent.” He hung up, removed his glasses, and leaned back in his chair. His gaze softened. “What does my love want that has her so upset?” he asked, like the storm in her eyes didn’t scare him. “A Maserati? Givenchy? My black card is right there—just whisper what you want, and it’s yours.” Green exhaled, shaking her head. “I’m not here for gifts, Joseph.” “I know.” “No, you don’t. You always think money can fix things.” “I absolutely don’t think that.” “You bought the company I worked for because I said I was scared of getting fired—how is that not thinking money fixes things?” “I bought it,” he said quietly, “because it was the only way I could keep seeing you. You were avoiding me. Saying you couldn’t risk your job. So I made it yours. You’re head of creative strategy now. With triple your old salary. And you only work when you want.” She turned away, rubbing her forehead. “Green,” he said, his voice a low murmur now. “Can I touch you?” She blinked at him. “Are you asking permission to touch me?” “You usually get angry when I touch you during a fight,” he said honestly, standing slowly. “You say I use it to make you forget why you’re mad.” “…Because you do.” “And you let me.” She turned to face him, and for a moment, neither said a word. He reached out, gently, his hand grazing her elbow. “So tell me, why are you really angry?” She looked away. “Is it because of the girl at the gala?” he asked. Her head snapped back toward him. “She’s like a sister. My father’s goddaughter.” “She was holding your hand.” “She’s grieving. Her brother was assassinated in Bogotá.” Green stepped back, arms folded. “You don’t even see how many women throw themselves at you. My mother tells me I’m stupid for staying. That I should leave you and marry someone safer. Someone like Don Frederick.” Joseph’s jaw tightened. “Don Frederick is a snake with a fake smile and a poisoned chalice. He’s not safe, he’s subtle. That’s worse.” “My mother doesn’t care,” Green said bitterly. “She only sees headlines. And dollar signs.” “What do you see?” he asked, stepping closer. “When you look at me. What do you see?” She didn’t answer. He touched her cheek, gently. “Do you think I’d let myself love anyone but you? I’d burn down every oil well I own before I lose you.” She blinked. “Don’t say things like that.” “Why? Because you believe me?” “No,” she whispered. “Because I do.”

Rhea Valencia, a practical and perpetually unlucky 21-year-old working college student, doesn’t believe in fairytale romances — not because she hates them, but because they’ve never worked out for her. She’s tried dating, but part-time jobs, academics, and her invisible radar for emotionally unavailable men have left her exhausted. She works nights at the dusty, underfunded Rosevale University Library, where the rarest books are kept locked away in the "Forgotten Wing" — a place even the most passionate readers avoid. One rainy evening, while working late, she’s surrounded by couples flirting and kissing even in the library. Irritated and secretly jealous, she pushes a heavy ladder to shelve books. A teetering book almost falls onto her — until a mysterious stranger steps in and shields her. He silently hands her a leather-bound book titled "A Moonlit Oath." No author. No index. Just gold-trimmed pages and a strange warmth to its cover. Curious, Rhea begins reading during her shift… and falls asleep with the book open on her lap. When she wakes up — she’s no longer in the library. She’s in a palace. In a wedding gown. Marching down an aisle… to marry the curse prince, the main villain of the story. The problem? She’s not supposed to exist in the story at all.

In the year 2025, a curious linguist named Liam Routh discovers an ancient, untitled book hidden deep within the archives of a massive private library. Bound in leather and sealed with a forgotten symbol—a sun pierced by three arrows—the book claims to hold the true story of Kael of No-Name, a boy erased from his powerful family line over four thousand years ago. As Liam begins to read, the air shifts. The ink glows. And suddenly, he’s not just reading the story—he’s living it. Transported to a time of ruthless warlords, forgotten gods, and wild desert lands, Liam follows the audacious journey of Kael: a castaway prince turned rebel dreamer who escapes his tyrannical bloodline to forge a kingdom of laughter, love, and freedom in a land untouched by empire. With a band of misfits by his side—including a drunk who thinks he’s royalty, a seductive thief, and a spear-wielding queen—Kael dares to challenge fate, conquer chaos, and rewrite history. But kingdoms built on ideals are often the first to be tested by war.

"Aria," he said softly. "Today is your birthday." It wasn't a question, but I nodded nevertheless. "The moon is full tonight," he added, his voice quiet. "You will attend the ceremony." "Of course, Elder," I replied, puzzled. All eighteen-year-olds attended the ceremony. It was essential. He leaned in, smelling gently. "You already feel it, don't you? "The change." My heartbeat skipped. "What change?" Elder Malin's eyes narrowed. "Interesting. "Very interesting." He reached inside his pocket and retrieved a little pouch. "Wear this tonight." I accepted it hesitantly. Inside was a simple moonstone pendant with a leather cord. "But this is for—" "Wear it," he interjected. "Hide it under your clothes if you must, but wear it." Moonstones were precious. They aided our connection to the Moon Goddess during ceremonies. However, they were only given to wolves from influential families (Alphas and Betas). Not Omegas like me. "Why?" I questioned. Elder Malin glanced at Mira before returning his attention to me. "Because someone is harboring secrets about you, child. And tonight, those secrets may be revealed." ~ I never mattered in our pack. Omegas like me serve, submit, and survive. We don't dream of love. We don't dream of power. She was the future Luna. I was just the girl who watched from the shadows. But everything changed on my 18th birthday. I felt the bond. I met my mate. One of the Alpha's sons. But the Alpha has triplets, and I felt the mate bond with all three and it seems the three of them felt it too — three perfect warriors, three powerful Alphas, three secrets buried beneath the surface. One of them is my destiny. One of them is lying. And one of them might be the death of me. The Moon Goddess doesn't make mistakes... but this time, I think she might've given me too much to handle.

Senior Server Felix stood at the front of the church, his voice steady and solemn as he greeted the congregation. “Our help is in the name of the Lord,” he intoned. “Who made Heaven and Earth,” the people responded in unison, their voices matching his reverent tone. “Today, we initiate new members into this divine and holy Order,” Felix continued. “Today, we welcome new brethren into the bosom of our Lord Jesus Christ.” At the back of the church, Louis sat on one of the few single chairs, his posture slightly slouched as his focus remained on a sheet of music in his hands. The title read, "Brightest and Best – Key of A-flat." 'Why didn’t Gramps give me an F or G? A-flat is so difficult, and I only have three days to finish it,' he grumbled silently, his brow furrowing in frustration. But he dared not voice his complaints. He could already imagine his grandfather assigning him even more difficult pieces—F-sharps and endless A-flats—as punishment. From the front of the church, a serene voice called out, “Harry! Step forward!” Louis glanced up, momentarily pulled from his inner musings. His eyes landed on a girl stepping forward from the pews. She had black hair neatly styled in a bun and striking green eyes that seemed to shine with warmth and composure. Dressed in a modest brown dress and black sandals, with a rosary resting gracefully around her neck, she exuded a calm, dignified presence. Her tanned skin and graceful demeanor only added to the aura of reverence surrounding her, befitting an Altar server. 'Sigh,' Louis thought as he brushed a hand through his white hair, his blue eyes softening with a mix of admiration and envy. 'I wonder what it’s like to be an Altar server. They all seem so pure and divine… and powerful.' Just as he returned his attention to his music, a calm, gentlemanly voice spoke beside him. “You could also be an Altar server, if you’re interested.” “Huh?” Louis blurted out, snapping his head to the side. But no one was there. “What in the name of Jesus is going on here?” he muttered, glancing nervously around. “At least you know my name,” the voice replied again, seemingly amused. “What?” Louis whispered, his heart beginning to race. "I'm certain you will be a good server," the voice said, calm yet enigmatic. Louis narrowed his eyes, still searching for its source. "Who are you?" "I have many personalities. I have many names," the voice replied with an air of mystery. "It’s your choice which one you accept." "You’re not making any sense," Louis muttered, growing more unsettled. "Blessed are those who have not seen but believed…" Before Louis could respond, his vision blurred, and the world around him seemed to melt away. He jolted awake, gasping for air. His hands clutched the crumpled sheet of music, its corners bent from his restless grip. His head teetered precariously over the edge of his bed, a faint ache in his neck reminding him of the awkward position he’d been in. "Holy Mother of Jesus!" he exclaimed as he lost his balance, tumbling off the bed in a heap of blankets and scattered papers.

My lips were tightly shut. My expression—blank. As if I didn’t understand the meaning behind his gaze, now sharper than ever. His fingers traced slowly along my jawline. The motion was calm. Measured. Too careful to be called affectionate. “So naive,” he whispered, barely audible. “Your breath... unchanged. Even your heartbeat is steady.” He leaned in. His lips brushed the skin beneath my ear—warm, but not seductive. A mere distraction. “These eyes... don’t lie. But they’re not completely honest either, are they?” His left hand slid to my back, tracing down my shoulder blades, then lower—to my waist. And stopped. Still. As if checking something. “Do you realize...” he continued, his voice soft yet piercing, “...of all the people who’ve seen my darkest side... you’re the only one who didn’t run.” I stayed silent. Just blinked once more, then gave a faint smile. “And why would I run?” My voice was light. Playful. I even let out a small laugh, more like a sigh. He didn’t laugh back. His gaze remained deep. His hand still touched my cheek—cold, scented with metal and leather. And then I... ...smiled. Genuinely. I leaned up slightly, raised his face gently with both hands, and kissed his cheek. The kiss left no mark, just a soft sound: chu — sweet, innocent. Almost like a child trying to show love. “Oh! You must be tired,” I said lightly. “I only made fish soup tonight, but the cuts are... kind of a mess.” I tugged gently at the hem of his shirt—playful, affectionate. Pulling him to hover directly over me. I slowly lay back on the bed, though my feet still touched the floor. My gaze never left him—looking up from the most vulnerable position. “But don’t ask why the cuts turned out so ugly,” I added with a small giggle. “Because earlier, the knife—” “The knife?” He interrupted. Flat voice. I nodded slowly, my eyes still bright. “Yeah, it’s so heavy! Where did you even buy it? Sharp, scary... but cool. Like... the kind used by a serial killer! Hehe~” For a few seconds, his expression shifted. Not angry. Not bothered. But... something changed. As if his mind had just collided with a memory that should’ve stayed locked away. Then, still calm, he said: “Don’t use that knife again. You could get hurt.” His fingers slipped into my hair—gentle, yet cold. “Tomorrow, I’ll give you a new one. Something that suits your hands better.” Then his lips lowered again. To my neck. At first, it tickled. But it quickly turned into something deeper than clumsy affection. Our breathing grew uneven. His body pressed heavily over mine, making the bed creak with every move.

Title: The Book of Whispers Genre: Supernatural Horror / Dark Fantasy Tone: Raw, Atmospheric, Unnerving Synopsis: Lena Carter never wanted the book. Her estranged grandfather’s final package—a worn leather-bound volume titled The Book of Whispers—came with one instruction: "Burn it. Do not open it." She ignored him. From the moment she flipped it open, everything changed. The pages held death premonitions… in her handwriting. And when her coworker Jenna died exactly as described, Lena's world fractured. The book isn’t dead paper. It’s aware. And it’s chosen her to be its new Keeper. Now pursued by the skeletal figure called the Last Witness, Lena races to uncover the book’s dark lineage—tracing back to a 12th-century monk who sealed away a shadow deity within its pages. Every previous Keeper gave in, bartering lives to delay their own demise. Lena won’t surrender that easily—until the book begins warping the world around her. - People vanish or return... wrong. - Mirrors whisper secrets. - Her name appears in the margins—next to “deceased.” Her sole companion? Mira, an ex-Keeper who’s seen too much and still bears the scars. Together, they run to Romania, back to where it all began. But the more Lena uncovers, the darker the truth becomes: The curse didn’t start with the book. It runs through her veins. And the shadow god? It’s been waiting for her. --- Why This Will Haunt You: - Gothic Overtones: Forgotten monasteries, dripping walls, and a monster that lives in silence and glass. - Mind Games: Memory, identity, and time twist until Lena no longer knows who she is. - Hard Choices: Would you doom a stranger—or yourself—to live another day? - Unpredictable Turns: Just when the rules feel clear, the book turns them inside out. Perfect for readers who loved: The Library at Mount Char, House of Leaves, and Netflix’s “The Haunting of Hill House.” --- Status: Ongoing (100+ chapters planned) Updates: 14 chapters weekly Crack the cover if you dare… but don’t whisper its name. It hears everything. ---

[Intelligence 1: In the trash can outside the wholesale market, there is an iced black tea bottle cap that can be scanned into an iPhone worth 4,399 yuan! ] [Intelligence 2: In the trash can at the entrance of the village in the city, there is a Longines Mini Dolce Vita series ladies watch worth 13,300 yuan in the interlayer of a light green women's down jacket! ] [Intelligence 3: The enamel basin you eat in will usher in a wave of traffic in the next week, and the price will skyrocket! It is recommended to stock up! ] [Intelligence 4: The coconut snail in the water tank of the Pangge Seafood Barbecue Stall in the village in the city contains a Melo Pearl worth 120,000 yuan! ] [Intelligence 5: A certain payment software can enjoy a 20% cash reduction for any transaction between 14:35 and 14:40 in the afternoon! ] [Intelligence 6: The beef rolls sold in the live broadcast room of a fitness anchor are synthetic beef, and you can get a compensation of 10 times the price of fake ones. ] [Intelligence: 7: A cold wave will appear in a week and last for a whole month. The price of fox and raccoon fur will rise sharply. It is recommended to stock up! ] [Intelligence 8: This year, Jiangjiazhuang has good weather and good harvests. Sweet potatoes will have a super bumper harvest, and the price will rise steadily! ] [Intelligence 9: A beef cattle sold in the livestock market has a natural bezoar weighing 1,000 grams! ] [Intelligence 10: Xiaoshahe Urban Village will be demolished in half a year! ] Relying on various money-making intelligence provided by the daily intelligence system. Jiang Tao has gradually achieved financial freedom from debt!

He didn’t open the book. The book opened him." Seventeen-year-old Jude Mercer thought his life was already a cosmic joke— homeless, broke, and haunted by trauma he never asked for. But everything changes the night he finds a strange, leather-bound book behind a dumpster. A book that… breathes. What he unleashes isn't a spell. It's Ereth-Kaal—an eldritch, sadistic curse older than time. Now bound to Jude’s body, Ereth-Kaal can only feed through him. And feed he will. Jude sets one rule: No women. No kids. No innocents. Ereth-Kaal agrees… mostly. But as bodies pile up, and Jude’s morality erodes under the weight of blood and guilt, one question claws at his soul: Is he still the host... or becoming the monster? Violent. Heartbreaking. Darkly hilarious. UNDER MY SKIN is a descent into madness wrapped in teeth, tentacles, and trauma.

The world I transmigrated is filled with players, with survival already a struggle. Moreover, I was entangled with a System to become the most visible NPC... The natives resent me while players see me as a thorn in their side. I needed to strive with all my might to live a good life in this foreign world while avoiding being bullied by the players. I can only turn the sufferings I experienced into the sufferings of others. I would have to keep all the benefits for myself, grow vigorously, and become an invincible boss who could never be defeated by players... This is a tale of the classic Fourth Day Disaster story while being struck by the disaster itself. My completed work of over ten thousand subscriptions, "Dream Master of Ten Thousand Worlds" is a testament to my credibility. Feel free to dive into it.

Purity a low ranking, clumsy, weak but determined angel suddenly volunteered to fight Abaddon, the 7th prince of hell who was pushed to earth to cause chaos on earth taking souls through deals Reborn but adopted into a family of riches and wealth faced bullying from her family but was favored by the head. Balancing her duties as an angel and the perfect granddaughter, It was purity’s job to take souls to heaven was it was time, both Abaddon and purity crossed paths couple of times but didn’t have any interaction. Roaming countries and countries for centuries Abaddon didn’t mind to purity until one night in an intense fight they were struck by lightning waking up they switched powers. ……………………………………… waking up to a burning sensation on her forehead purity whimpered, rubbing her head which just made the pain worse. looking around she wasn’t in her room, she was enveloped in an atmosphere of dark luxury.the air thick with leather and polished wood. candelabras with black candles cast flickering shadows on the walls adorned with intricate gold patterns. Massive, velvet- upholstered in deep burgundy and ebony wood chaise lounge dominated the space. A grand piano it’s ebony surface polished to mirror sheen sits silently in a corner. The bed which she layed on a grand king sized bed with black silk duvet and matching velvet pillows the wood on the head board was flawlessly carved with designs reminiscent of anique demon seal the bed positioned centrally purity jumped up seeing Abaddon staring at her with rage a halo atop his head his wings white but black in the very end and most importantly the cross tattoo on his wrist. “why are you with my halo?” purity stood on the bed attempting to take it but Abaddon threw her to the vanity table shattering the mirror “what did you do?!” Purity got up bleeding from her side she looked at herself in the shattered glass an upside down cross on her forehead her wings black, purity screamed “what did you do?!” she ran to punching his chest but Abaddon quickly raised her by the neck his grip tightening, purity couldn’t breathe the doors burst open Abaddon immediately dropped purity who gasped for air before looking up her voice still chocked “I can explain”

A cynical 21st-century historian, contemptuous of the Soviet Union's collapse, is inexplicably reborn as Gennady Yanayev in the heart of Moscow, August 1991. Armed with future knowledge and a ruthless determination, he hijacks the impending coup, not to preserve a dying system, but to forge a new, terrifyingly efficient Soviet superpower poised for global domination.

Sera Vane is a sixteen-year-old "Rank Zero," openly labeled the worst rank in a culture that ranks everything in its pursuit of power. In the city of Velatrix, rankings dictate all aspects of life—school placement, social status, even access to clean water or decent housing. For Sera, it's a daily life of invisibility and humiliation at high-status Lunaris High, where walls themselves respond to student rank. She's the one in the gray jacket. The system failure. The punchline. But Sera is not who she seems. She's been suppressing random outbursts of energy since she was a kid—episodes she can't explain, filled with static interference, hot-hot equipment, or machinery that inexplicably turns off when she's around. Her sister Jin has begged her to keep quiet, stay hidden, and stay alive. The last time anyone saw her power manifest, someone died. As Sera drifts through school on a wave of taunts and exclusion, she discovers quiet friendship in Lio Dane—a friendly but seemingly low-ranking student who never once treats her like a ghost. Lio is actually a committed agent of an underground resistance, tasked with protecting her. For Sera isn't merely a statistical anomaly. She's a Sovereign-class Conduit—an ancient, feared source of power who can speed and shape energies flowing around her, including other people's abilities. When a synthetic foe attacks Lunaris High in what should've been a routine drill, the best students die. Spies are mobilized. The defense net crashes. But Sera, unranked and unarmed, steps forward—and reality is remade. Her power explodes to life, driving the foe away and bending reality's laws. For the very first time ever, the system recognizes her. And the system goes nuts. Headmistress Calaine Voss, the architect of the academy's ranking system, sees Sera as a threat and initiates the Strata Protocol—a black-budget program designed to put down renegade powers. But she's too late. Word of worldwide transformation seeded by Sera spreads, and a hidden network of retired Conduits and loyalists is reactivated. Lunch ladies, janitors, medics—those the system has all but forgotten are in line to join her. Through flashbacks, sabotage, and slow-cultivated allegiances, Sera learns the truth of her origins—and its terrible price. The regime murdered the last monarch she is now being asked to kill. The power that rests within her could liberate thousands—or enslave them. As Sera is born into the world, her grip on self slips. Everyone wants her to be something: a prophecy, a weapon, or a queen. But Sera doesn't want to be anyone's fate. She wants a life. A voice. A choice. In the confrontation, she battles Calaine with not vengeance but clarity. Sera addresses the ranking system deception and releases a power flash that disables the scanning infrastructure throughout the city. She refuses to insert another hierarchy there. Instead, she disappears—blending again into the populace, refusing power in an addicted society. But she is not lost. And she is not alone. We observe that at the end of the novel, Sera walks backstreets with her sister and Lio, her glyphs pale but not dead. Power hums in her flesh but no longer governs her. Because her rank is gone. But her legacy has only just begun.

In a world where faith fuels power and Divinity separates legends from mortals, Saints are the last line of defense against a rising tide of evil — demons, warlocks, witches, vampires, and other creatures birthed from shadows and sin. At the heart of this holy war stands Saint Academy, the most elite institution on Earth where chosen youths are trained to become divine warriors. But entry into this world is reserved for the powerful... and the privileged. Until now. Damien Gray, a 15-year-old boy from the slums, has nothing — except a brave heart, a worn-out hooded jacket, and a flicker of Divinity so dim it's almost invisible. Ranked Zadkiel, the lowest of the seven ranks, he is mocked, dismissed, and unwanted. But everything changes when Damien saves a family during a supernatural battle between a powerful warlock and the strongest Saint alive — John Davis, a Michael-ranked legend. Impressed by Damien’s courage, John secretly sponsors him into Saint Academy. Now thrust into a world of golden towers, cruel elites, and divine expectations, Damien must prove he belongs — not just to the Academy, but to the heavens themselves. The Divinity Ranking System: Michael (White Divinity): The apex of sainthood. Near-godlike power. Gabriel (Blue): Exceptionally rare. Masters of advanced miracles. Raphael (Green): Highly respected. Elite healers and combatants. Uriel (Gold): Skilled and battle-hardened saints. Jophiel (Yellow): Promising students with strong potential. Camael (Pink): Basic level with average abilities. Zadkiel (Violet): The weakest level, barely above a normal human. Most students struggle to rise even one rank. Few ever touch Raphael. Only one has ever reached Michael — John Davis. And now, Damien wants to surpass him. With his mother’s love as his anchor, divine power awakening within, and enemies waiting to crush him, Damien sets out to climb the sacred ladder. But the Academy holds secrets. And some doors should never be opened... Will Damien rise, or will the fire of fate consume him first?

A supernatural dating app. One clueless human. And a half-demon who’s way out of his league. Dave just wanted to earn some money, test some code. What he got was accidentally thrown into the front seat of the hottest dating app for supernaturals. MonsterMatch. Thinking it’s some kind of joke, or at best RPing gold, he sets up a profile and chooses an alias. Nightmare Incubus with “chaotic cuddle energy” seeks devilishly hot female for fiery romance and walks in hell. He thinks he’s being funny. But when he matches with Lilith, she thinks he’s just plain charming. Lilith is everything he’s not: seductive, sarcastic, and half-demon. Unlike Dave, she has a sexy job in dream management. Her favorite color is leather, and she thinks he’s adorably low-effort sexy. Too bad she doesn’t know he’s only human. Now Dave’s stuck faking celestial powers, surviving monster mixers, and trying not to spontaneously combust every time Lilith smirks at him. But Lilith isn’t stupid. She knows he’s faking it. She just doesn’t care—because for once, she’s found someone who doesn’t want to drain her, summon her, or banish her. He just wants her, for her. And that might be the most dangerous thing of all.

The year is 5244, and humanity has been on pause. Despite centuries of technological advancements, society has stagnated, glued to their phones. Knowledge, ambition, and human connection have crumbled. SOB442 a 12 year old.Is different. A self-proclaimed genius in a sea of mindless phone addicts, he feels like the last person alive who craves something more—knowledge, purpose, meaning. In a world where even his family barely looks up from their devices, SOB442’s only friend is TFR100, a friend so absorbed in tech he barely knows how to speak.But everything changes the day they stumble upon a mysterious object in TFR’s basement: a “slab” unlike anything they’ve ever seen. Made of leather and filled with strange, thin sheets—paper—it carries a title: The Adventures of Shawn and Tucker. To SOB442, it’s not just a curiosity; it’s a relic from a forgotten era, a key to uncovering humanity’s lost history. Determined to uncover the truth behind the slab, SOB442 embarks on a quest to learn what the book holds and why it was buried in a world that’s forgotten how to read. Along the way, he’ll face resistance from a society that sees no value in the past, a government that thrives on ignorance, and his own doubts about whether one kid can reignite the spark of human curiosity. In a world where everyone is online, can one boy reconnect humanity to the stories that made it human?

Betrayed,plotted against,and killed. Elodie Adedora’s corpse was left to glaciate in a cold abyss… but why does this protagonist wake up seven years later? … Far away, off the outskirts of the Solaria kingdom, where the sun and warmth were scarce. A dark cave, lit only by the dim reflection of silver chains, suspending a single person to an icy wall. The person's skin, dark and covered in winters frost. The hairs on her head and eyelashes were grey, covered by tiny icicles. Her lips, pale of all color, cracked, and like the rest of her, cold. But, slowly, her lips were the first to melt. Her eyes started to flutter open, revealing brown eyes flickering with white. A bright, illuminating, magical white. "Kill the queen. You must kill the queen. That is why you are alive." The iridescent shimmer of white began to spread across her body, intertwining itself with the natural ebony color of her skin that was stuck to her bones. The intense frail appearance of the girl filled out into a healthy complexion. The melting ice dripped like water down her skin, and the more that dripped, the more alive the unconscious body seemed to become.  Just as a first warm breath escaped the girl's mouth, a spiteful emotion bubbled up to the surface, flashing across the girl's eyes. Pain, suffering, and betrayal. Those were the three most prevalent in her expression. One of the three must've been a feeling strong enough to revive the dead. The chains on her arms were thick and bulky, frosted over with a glaze of ice and frost. In a second however, she ripped her arms away from the stone that in prisoned her, falling weakly to other side, where her other arm remained suspended to the ice wall. A screamed ripped out of the girl who had just awoken, the voice of regret. It echoed against the walls of the cave. Her restraints shattered in a horrifying unison, metal bits flying in different directions in the room. Falling to the ground, her shivering body hit the ice floor below her. The ice ground made direct contact with her knees and forearms. Under the intense contact, they scraped and peeled. Yet, the girl's hands and knees held strong as she stood up. Her dark, raven black hair fell in front of her face, a protruding but delicate nose bridge interrupted its flow.  "You will never be forgiven..." Were the first words to leave the girl's lips. The white flickers and crackles in her eyes and across her skin had calmed. The iridescent shimmer had also vanished, and yet,  Now was the moment the girl appeared the most intimidating, warm tears of anger had overtaken the melted ice on her skin, obstructing parts of her vision. She raised her head, and with it, a stem of green glow manifested from no where. In her palms, the white shimmer of light had now turned a threatening forest green. In this icy prison was where the infamous evil witch was held captive. It would also be the same place which this story begins.

Ashley wasn’t looking for love. Her life was already complicated enough—haunted by past traumas, trapped under the same roof as an uncle who embodies everything she fears, and constantly pretending to be strong while breaking apart inside. Gustavo, known as “Ghost,” is everything Ashley never expected: gentle, loyal, and hopelessly awkward when it comes to love. With his leather jacket, roaring motorcycle, and a smile that hides wounds of his own, he carries more silence than he’s willing to share. In a world where pain feels more permanent than love, their paths collide with unexpected intensity. Through stolen conversations, glances that burn, and silences louder than words, Ashley and Ghost discover that love isn’t always sweet—and sometimes, it hurts just as much as it heals. “After Pain and Love… What Comes Next?” is a story about the fear of feeling, the battle to trust, and the courage to love despite the chaos within. An emotional journey that explores the strength of friendship, the edge of desire, and the question we all ask when the heart breaks: What now?

Elaine Monroe never meant to fall in love with him. She never meant for her heart to betray her like this. But as she watches him stand beside another, hand resting on the waist of the woman he’s meant to be with, she wonders if she was always destined to be the outsider. "You knew," she says, voice barely above a whisper. "You knew how I felt." His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t deny it. He never does. "It wouldn’t have changed anything," he finally says. She laughs bitterly. "I know." Loving him was always impossible. He belonged to someone else. To his family’s expectations. To a future where Elaine had no place. "Forget whatever you think you feel," he tells her, voice firm, but there’s something unspoken in his eyes—something that makes it hurt even more. "It will never happen." And yet, his gaze lingers, just for a second too long. Then there’s her best friend—the one who stands beside her when the world turns its back. The one who sees her pain without asking. "You don’t have to do this to yourself," he says, handing her his jacket on a cold night. "You deserve more than waiting for someone who will never be yours." She wants to believe him. She wants to move forward. But some loves are impossible to forget. Some wounds never truly heal. And some desires, no matter how forbidden, refuse to die. _____ "loving him best decision i ever made" Elaine "you are my world"

They called him the “Silent Tactician” long before the blood dried on the banners. Before the journal was found. Before history remembered the cost. At the heart of an elite academy where talent alone isn't enough, Nitsuo stands not with power or prestige—but with silence, strategy, and an unreadable gaze. To most, he’s just a quiet second-year. To a few, he is the mind behind impossible victories. Behind his team’s laughter, behind the storm of noble politics and magical duels, he records everything—in a worn leather journal that one day will be all that remains. Each student here dreams of glory. Each battle is more than a test; it’s a war for identity. Magic is studied like warcraft. Words are weapons. Feelings are hidden behind masks, until a single moment—a mistake, a duel, a glance too long—cracks them wide open. But Nitsuo didn’t come here to win. He came to carry a promise. And while his comrades clash and grow, while quiet rivalries bloom into unspoken feelings and accidental flirts stir the hearts of more than one, a war far beyond the school walls brews in the dark. Because legends aren't born—they’re remembered. And The Silent Tactician doesn’t speak to be heard. He writes so his story won't be lost.

Far in the future, in a desolate land where despite the rich and plush grass there seems to be no animals roaming around stood thousand upon thousands of soldiers they all wear similar armors, bearing similar flags, and carrying similar symbol on them. Everyong is tensed and serius while all of them are facing to one direction, towards the silent calm sea. And in the silence, where only the occasional noise of the horses are heard, a powerful sound could be heard. A beating of two pair of wings... Towards the sea a powerful gust of wind pushed the fogs away.. revealing a man.. He's wearing a light leather armor.. a contrast to the shining metalic plates the soldiers on the land wore.. His hair is as dark as the night and his eyes as deep as the night. But all eyes landed on his back as two pairs of beautiful pair of white wings each spanining for five meters each as it flaps and keeps him in the air. Suddenly a man wearing a regal and imposing black armor in the very front of the formation stepped forward and spoke. Despite him speaking in calm manner his voice could be heard all across the land. "You betrayed our country, you scum.. Prepare to die" Then the man with the wings smiled at his words and replied. "And you betrayed humanity.. o mighty ruler.. YOU prepare to die" With his reply the fog behind him splits revealing hundreds of battle ships making contact with the steep cliff. And a thunderous battle cry explodes in the field as thousands of soldiers jumped hundreds of feet in the air towards the oposing armies. And a bloody war ensues. What had led up to this?

Once every 10,000 years, the heavens open, and the Mortal Realm is cast into turmoil. The Great Reset begins—a cosmic reckoning where empires fall, beasts awaken, and only the strongest carve their names into eternity. For those who survive, the path to the Astral Realm and the right to claim divinity awaits. Raikai, a warrior forged in storms, wields the power of the Celestial Iron Body Cultivation, his flesh tempered into living steel. His Death Arms—twin scythes bound by chains—dance like a mythological dragon, crackling with lightning, capturing and tearing apart those who stand in his way. Beside him stands Shinryu, swift and precise, blessed by the Celestial Tiger. His Death Arms, a pair of white leather gloves with retractable claws, strike with divine speed—every slash a whisper of the heavens’ fury. Together, they ascend the path of blood and power, bound by brotherhood yet tested by fate. Their bond is their greatest strength, but in a world where the Death Arms grow with their wielders—feeding on their victories and failures—power often demands a terrible price. As the 10,000-year Reset begins, ancient titans stir, forgotten sects rise from the shadows, and primordial beasts long thought extinct awaken. The heavens will bear witness as Raikai and Shinryu defy the gods—or die trying. In an age where flesh is reforged into iron and weapons evolve alongside the soul—two brothers will challenge destiny itself!

Mature[R–18+] In the hidden corridors of power where desire and danger intertwine, Valeria Ivanov—the beguiling daughter of a notorious mafia don—learns that seduction is her deadliest weapon. Tasked with a mission that pits her against the equally formidable Adrian DeLuca, the enigmatic heir of a rival crime family, she enters a world where every whispered promise and stolen touch could be fatal. Adrian, a master strategist renowned for his icy reserve, finds himself drawn to her intoxicating blend of danger and seduction, his calculated facade slowly melting beneath the heat of their forbidden encounters. As secret trysts evolve into nights of raw, unbridled passion, the boundaries between duty and lust blur. Every clandestine rendezvous is a battle between their relentless ambition and the exquisite pleasure of surrendering to temptation. Amid the decadent backdrop of blood-soaked loyalty and whispered betrayals, Valeria struggles with the growing conflict between her mission and the irresistible allure of a love that promises both ecstasy and ruin. In a world where trust is as fragile as a whispered secret and every caress could conceal a knife, Beneath the Crimson Veil is an erotic journey into the depths of passion, power, and betrayal. Here, the price of desire is steep, and the stakes are life and death—leaving both hearts and empires forever transformed by the flames of a forbidden love. Excerpt: The dim glow of the city lights cast jagged shadows across Adrian’s sharp features as he leaned against the edge of his desk, arms crossed, his gaze a storm of suspicion and something darker—something far more dangerous. Valeria stood across from him, her expression an intoxicating mix of defiance and amusement. She had perfected the art of playing innocent, but tonight, something in Adrian’s eyes made her heart pound in warning. “You’re up to something,” he said, voice low and measured, like the edge of a blade pressing against silk. She arched a brow, taking slow, deliberate steps toward him, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. “Oh?” she mused, tilting her head. “And what exactly am I up to, amore mio?” Adrian’s jaw tightened. “You tell me.” A slow smirk curled her lips as she invaded his space, her fingers lightly grazing the lapel of his jacket. “You don’t have proof.” His eyes darkened, flicking down to where her fingers toyed with the fabric. “I don’t need proof,” he murmured. “I see it in your eyes. The way you watch me. Like you’re calculating your next move.” Valeria chuckled, the sound soft, teasing. “And here I thought you were the one watching me.” She dragged her nails lightly down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath his tailored suit. “You want proof?” His hand shot out, gripping her wrist, but his touch wasn’t rough—it was deliberate, commanding. “Yes.” His voice dropped lower, nearly a whisper. “Prove it.” The challenge hung between them, thick with tension. Her pulse hammered in her throat, but she didn’t hesitate. She reached up, her fingers threading into his dark hair as she closed the space between them, her lips grazing his—soft, testing, before she deepened it.

On his way home from School, a young 17-year old lad from Manchester named Peter Baker was hit by a speeding lorry in the middle of the street. When he woke up, expecting a beeping monitor, nurses and his mum nagging him for his carelessness, he instead found himself stuck in another World where magic exists in the Arthurian Empire. He was stuck in the Middle of nowhere, his phone is about to die and he is stuck with a skeptical elf named Ryeka and a kind young herbalist called Alina. Bored from the lack of conveniences from the modern world, he created a ball out of leather and cloth. When he started playing football, the rest was history. Peter now finds himself navigating this world's culture, history, values along with spreading the Beautiful Game to people he refers to as ' Uncultured Lot', and who knows? He may overthrow a monarchy while at it.