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Made In Heaven In Real Time

Rebirth: I Made a Comeback in Showbiz

Yu Su is making a comeback with her system! Yu Su didn't grow up with her family. At age four, her older brother lost her while they were out and about. Her family adopted a girl close to her age and even gave her Yu Su's name. Many years later, Yu Su's family found her. However, nobody in the family treated her better because they felt guilty. On the contrary, they pampered the adopted child even more. If Yu Su and her adopted sister ever set their sights on something at the same time, their family would let her sister have it. Yu Su relied on her own hard work to succeed in showbiz. Not only did her family not show her any support, they even tried to interfere with his career. They claimed to want to look after her, but they gave all their resources to her adopted sister. In her previous life, Yu Su craved familial love and tolerated endless bullying from her family. However, in the end, when she and her adopted sister were kidnapped, everyone, including her family and the boyfriend she grew up with, chose to rescue her adopted sister first. In the end, Yu Su was killed by her kidnappers. After reincarnating, Yu Su decided to cut off all ties with her family. To survive, she ventured into showbiz! Later... Was her eldest brother a dominant CEO in showbiz? In the blink of an eye, Yu Su's studio became the top-performing company in the industry! Was her second brother a successful manager? Yu Su became the ace of all managers in showbiz! Was her third brother a famous and talented singer? Yu Su went viral with a single song! Was her fourth brother a genius director? Yu Su's film sold so well that even he became envious! After seeing Yu Su's success, her biological parents and brothers regretted their actions. They begged her for forgiveness. "I refuse!" Yu Su exclaimed.
Mountain Springs · 2.7M Views

Evil is Real

Not a sound, not even a whisper was heard from the Saint Claire household, it was though the devil came to steal,kill and destroy the last surviving members of the Eastern crusaders - the last line of defense against demons. It was a sad day for Zenemiah, the last son of Kish Saint Claire - a brave crusader who died in battle at the borders of their home land - Hailderguard. The members of the house hold gathered around the grave of their master, brother, friend husband and father, Zenemiah's mom and sister couldn't hold back their tears as the priest gave his final blessings to the dead man. " What will become of the household" - " the boy will be in charge"- the relatives of the Saint Claire's debated behind the crowd - "the boy is only 16, he doesn't even know what it means to be a crusader in Hailderguard", Kish's friend - Northington aforesaid. Zenemiah was just 16 yes, but he had already gotten some experience than the old chubby fools in the church - not because his family was rich, he had proven himself again and again in the church training camp that nothing is beyond limits as long as you set your mind towards achieving it. Hailderguard used to be a peaceful land - a place of the church, the Church of the Crusaders, until the devil came - from the depths of the earth, demons poured and their ways leading to the town's shores. To protect the citizens, the church formed a group of able-bodied men and women to slay the beasts, will the gifts of the Holy swords, the crusaders have kept the demons at bay - it was however unfortunate for Kish, who died in battle. The burial ceremony was over, Zenemiah's mom - Eve, called out the servants in the household and instructed to them to clear all of the dead master's belongings to the space room, just in that moment, Eve's daughter - Victoria interrupted when she was given further instructions to the eldest bulter of the household - Bartholomew. "Why are you doing this mother?".... "Father's burial was today and here you are trying to bury everything that reminds me of him, this is so cruel!".. Victoria cried out - "this is not up for discussion young lady,go to your room and lay your head" - Eve replied with such sorrowful bitterness... "If I may my mistress, the space will be come always for the children to still have a memory their late father" - Bartholomew pointed out.. "Very well, I'm sorry Victoria".. Eve said to her daughter, walking away with tears in her eyes. "Thank you Bartholomew" Victoria said. "It was no issue milady, but I fear the one person who's hurt more is your brother".. Bartholomew tried to sympathize with Victoria. Zenemiah hated everything at that moment - England, Hailderguard, the church, the Crusaders, demons ....even himself. ================================ It was 1845, one more year, he becomes a full pledged crusader but fear in his heart, the chances of him getting that driving confidence back is dim. Death is not evil not good - a law of nature, it can be evil sometimes and evil can be real
Davi_Mations · 7.5K Views

To Sleep In The Sea Of Time

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling
man_of_culture3030 · 683.3K Views
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