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A Perfect Bet Does Not Exist! [BL]

Kamakura Metropolitan University practically worships its resident bad‑boy brood: Akuma Takashi and his hand‑picked trio—Tomo Aizawa, Reiho Tsukishima, Itsuki Moriyama, and Takumi Kisaragi. Handsome, untouchable, and forever bored, they survive on one intoxicating pastime: reckless bets. The whole campus swoons over them, yet something about the quartet feels… off—too polished, too predatory, almost supernatural. It’s a sun‑soaked Thursday when trouble finds them. Akuma lounges in the cafeteria, annotation pen hovering over a battered paperback, when Tomo drops into the seat opposite, eyes gleaming. “Bro,” he drawls, “bet you can’t make the very next person through that door fall hopelessly in love with you.” The glass doors hiss. In walks Kaito Ishikawa—hood up, earbuds in, radiating I‑dare‑you apathy. Once upon a freshman year, he was Reiho’s favorite target; lockers, insults, sucker punches—Kaito endured them all with a single bored blink and a muttered expletive. Reiho flinches at the memory. “Bad call, Tomo. The guy’s got ice water for blood and a tongue like barbed wire.” Itsuki arches a brow; Takumi gives a low whistle. Tomo just smirks wider. Akuma snaps his book shut, eyes tracking Kaito’s deliberate stride. A lazy, dangerous smile curls across his lips. “Challenge accepted,” he murmurs— and in that heartbeat, the game is on. Akuma Takashi is the very definition of breathtaking. With white marble hair that dances with the wind and ocean-blue eyes that could drown you without warning, he’s the kind of beauty that makes people stop mid-step—and girls quite literally beg for his attention. He’s tall—like, stupidly tall—standing at a striking 180 cm, and he knows how to use every inch of it. And then there’s Kaito Ishikawa—just 165 cm of pure, concentrated menace. A short, sharp-tempered little villain, armed with jet-black hair, deep brown eyes, and zero tolerance for bullshit. He’s either buried in a book or glued to his phone, rarely acknowledges class, and yet… he’s always topping the academic charts. How? No one knows. Why? No one dares to ask. Frankly, no one cares—because Kaito doesn’t give a single damn about being understood. He’s chaos in a quiet package. And Akuma? He might be the only one insane enough to unwrap it.
mangobee_7 · 1K Views

How To Evolve A Fireball

In the world of Elka, every awakened mage is granted a Grimoire — a living magical book that records their spells, achievements, and evolution paths. Spells aren’t static. They grow. They branch. They transform. For most mages, spell evolution is a game of instinct and talent — cast more, train harder, get lucky. But Arin Ember isn’t like most mages. He’s not even from this world. Transmigrated from a dying, magicless planet where survival depended on science, Arin sees magic not as mystery, but as code. And he’s obsessed with one spell: Fireball. The weakest, most basic spell in existence — and the only one he’ll ever use. While others chase power through variety, Arin dives into obsessive specialization. He dissects Fireball like a physicist. He refines it like a chemist. And in his blank, silent Grimoire, he begins rebuilding it from the ground up — not just evolving it, but rewriting its magical genome. Because in Elka, every spell is built on a hidden structure: mana-sequence code, a chain of runes and elemental instructions like living DNA. It governs everything — from power output to elemental behavior to spell adaptability. And Arin? He’s the first person insane enough to treat it like genetic engineering. Through experimentation, failure, and relentless theory-crafting, he transforms his Fireball into: A self-replicating flame with controlled mitosis A plasma-based projectile that adapts to air density A sentient spark that learns mid-combat And a superheated core spell capable of atomizing magic barriers They call him talentless. They call him obsessed. But soon, may call him something else: The Father of Spell Genetics. The One-Spell Monster. The Fireball Architect.
SizzlingCoal · 1.2K Views
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