moro 73

A tale as old as time. Nineteen years ago, a boy named Moro Ashin watched his father die at the hands of Cassian Rho, the mad outlaw known as The Demon of Twin Suns. Cassian’s laughter burned itself into Moro’s bones, shaping him into a weapon built for one purpose: revenge. Prepare for the blood soaked first peak into the Infinite Circle

It’s been exactly three years today since I married into the Moro family in my sister’s place. Alexei tossed a contract my way. “Sign this. You’re off to Vegas tomorrow to settle the debt.” His mistress, Anna, leaned against the doorframe and laughed. “You’re just a substitute—does it matter where you go?” I didn’t say a word. I recalled the wedding day, when he had my sister’s name tattooed on his ring finger. Two months into my pregnancy, he said a stand-in wasn’t worthy of bearing his seed and dragged me onto the operating table. I had a fever of 40 degrees, yet he used my credit card to pay for Anna’s nose job. Three years, not a single good day. I picked up the pen. I signed. Anna covered her mouth and laughed: “I thought you’d cry.” I pulled out my mobile and put it on speaker. “Dad, the Moro family sold me out today.” There was a two-second silence on the other end. “All shipments from Eastern Europe—halt them tonight.”

Meu nome é Mitsuhiko Okaya, tenho 29 anos. Sou editor em uma editora. No dia em que flagrei minha esposa me traindo, dois gêmeos JK apareceram de repente em minha casa. “Tio, se você me deixar ficar esta noite, você pode fazer… coisas safadas” “Isso… por favor… você é a única pessoa em quem posso confiar…” Akari, uma garota loira, e Nanako, uma garota elegante de cabelos pretos, duas estudantes do ensino médio que eu nunca conheci, mas que me parecem vagamente familiares. Depois que minha esposa me traiu, mudei para uma nova editora e comecei uma vida estranha com essas duas garotas do ensino médio. Akari, a irmã mais nova, que me seduz agressivamente, e Nanako, a irmã mais velha, que é reservada, mas na verdade muito travessa. Os dois me curam, e juntos curamos meu coração ferido. Um dia, minha ex-esposa me pediu desculpas. Além disso, a pessoa com quem ela me traiu e meu antigo chefe vieram até mim de joelhos. Ela disse que percebeu que eu era realmente competente na minha antiga editora e veio se desculpar. Mas já era tarde demais. Estou curtindo minha nova vida com as lindas JKs e meu ambiente de trabalho predominantemente branco. ------------------------------------------------------- O romance não é meu! Créditos ao autor (Ibarakino) se quiserem ajudar comprando ja tem o livro tanto físico quanto digital! sou tradutor intermediário, se encontrar algum erro mim avise. se tive uma obra que vocês quiserem mim fale!

Content Warnings: This story contains explicit and graphic content that may be disturbing to some readers. Warnings include, but are not limited to: graphic violence, gore, body horror, psychological torture, child death, desecration of corpses, and themes of systemic abuse and corruption. Reader discretion is strongly advised. In a world where the nobility's grace is a gilded mask for unspeakable cruelty, an orphaned boy named Mormond watches his world burn. After the brutal murder of his adoptive sister, Nini, at the hands of arrogant aristocrats, something inside him shatters and is remade into a monstrous new form. In his grief, he manifests a terrifying and unique power, becoming the "Puppeteer Calamity"—a vengeful artist who reanimates Nini's broken corpse, transforming her into a beautiful and deadly marionette of vengeance. Their bloody crusade begins in the slums of Marlock, but soon their stage expands to the decadent and corrupt empire of Omnia, a place where the elite literally consume the souls of slum children to preserve their own vitality. Hiding behind the flawless disguise of "Milos," an innocent and cherubic orphan, Mormond infiltrates the highest echelons of power. He orchestrates a masterful campaign of psychological warfare, not with brute force, but with whispers. He turns nobles against each other, drives them to madness, and forces them to author their own destruction, all while they believe him to be a harmless, lucky charm. Each conquest ends with a new, horrifying puppet added to his public collection—a gallery of corpses left as a chilling signature. His reign of terror does not go unnoticed. The empire's champion, Tifa—a swordmaster of holy light known as the Divine Guardian—is tasked with hunting the "Silver Shadow." She is his perfect opposite: a beacon of order and righteousness dedicated to protecting the very system Mormond seeks to annihilate. But as Mormond's web of control tightens around the empire's throat, an unforeseen complication arises. The ghost of Nini's true self begins to awaken within the puppet, her fragmented memories and prayers creating a glitch in his perfect control. This internal fracture becomes Mormond's greatest vulnerability. His desperate, violent attempts to maintain possession of his sister's soul expose him at the worst possible moment, forcing him from the shadows and into a direct, desperate conflict with Tifa and the full might of the empire. The Conductor's controlled performance descends into a chaotic war, where the price of his vengeance may be the very soul he fought so hard to keep. A novel by : ATLASBANAW

Ce projet est en progression. Les chapitres sortiront quand ils vont sortir. merci de votre compréhension. ;) Voyager vers une petite ville où normalement le calme prospèrent, mais plus les jours passe, plus des événements étranges surviennent. Découvrez ce qui se trame tout en suivant l'aventure de la protagoniste Hāto Hidoi, une jeune adolescente de 16 ans au style gothique, ainsi que de son beau-père ; Richard Baudouin, l'enquêteur ; Johnson, et quelques autres qui arriveront au fil du temps.

Here, only those with spiritual roots can cultivate while those with mortal roots are destined to stay mortal. Mo Wuji only has mortal roots, but will he only remain as a mortal? ---------- Watch as Mo Wuji fights against this destiny with his grit and tenacity. Feel your hearts pound as he goes through exciting adventures and encounters. Cry as tragedies befall him. Smile as he crushes his enemies and forges his own path. Where will his cultivation ultimately lead him?

Ici, seuls ceux avec des racines spirituelles peuvent cultiver tandis que ceux avec des racines mortelles sont destinés à rester mortels. Mo Wuji n'a que des racines mortelles, mais restera-t-il simplement un mortel ? ---------- Observez comment Mo Wuji lutte contre ce destin avec courage et ténacité. Sentez votre cœur battre alors qu'il vit des aventures passionnantes et fait face à diverses rencontres. Pleurez face aux tragédies qui le frappent. Souriez lorsqu'il écrase ses ennemis et forge son propre chemin. Où sa cultivation le mènera-t-elle finalement ?

A vida, intricada e insondável, tece seus fios intricados em meio ao manto do destino. As correntes do pensamento podem oscilar, contudo, a essência da ideologia persiste, como uma sombra implacável, seguindo-nos com os atos e as memórias que nutrimos. Por que, então, este fado inexorável nos abraça?

If dreams came with blueprints, Mora would've had her life perfectly laid out-just not in Tequila. What starts as a desperate attempt to save her mother's restaurant; MariaRosé, spirals into a dangerous affair at the AGUIRRE Mansion, where passion tangles with violence, secrets, and everything she swore to oppose. Between falling for danger himself and fighting to dismantle the corrupt powers of Tequila, Mora faces the ultimate choice-keep her hands clean and lose her heart, or tear down the very systems that tried to keep her small.

Before marrying Silas, Joyce had only met him three times. A marriage of convenience, a secret agreement, for a term of three years. She's fresh off a heartbreak — the man she chased for years told her they "weren't a good match." Silas has his own baggage: rumor says he's still hung up on a white moonlight who happens to look just like Joyce. So that's all she is. A substitute. ** In the second year of their marriage, on Joyce's birthday, she drank too much and, in front of everyone, tugged on his tie, pinning him underneath her: "You look... a lot like my husband." The Thorne family's second master, known for being rational and unfeeling, was flustered by her that night. He leaned in close to her ear and coaxed in a low voice, "Be good." The next day Joyce woke up to find her lips were swollen. This… Who did this! When she went to question him, she discovered Silas's lip was bitten. He stared at her and said slowly, "You crossed the line first." ** The scandal leaked. At a party, her ex-boyfriend stepped in: "She's mine. Who dares talk?" Then Silas walked in. The room went silent. "Yours? Since when?" "Joyce, tell me. Whose are you?" So much for the secret marriage. So much for being a substitute. This was supposed to be fake… wasn't it?