chittagong armoury raid a memoir

WARNING! THIS NOVEL CONTAINS A RIDICULOUSLY OVERPOWERED MC. DO NOT! I REPEAT, DO NOT, READ! Unless you're into that shit. This ain't no slow burn, weak to strong, tease. My boy is basically strong from the get go. The premise of my novel is emphasising the idea of the phrase, 'don't judge a book by it's cover.'. The moment you tap and start reading the first chapter, expect an MC who is rarely ever going to lose, one who only seems weak based on the standards on strength that the rest of the world operates by. Expect an MC who goes against reason, common sense and everything in between. If that ain't your speed, that's totally cool. But if it is, welcome aboard. Synopsis: 76 years ago, the world changed. Or rather, should I say it evolved? Even so, this, "evolution" came at a price. Or maybe, the 'price' is what caused the evolution in the first place. What is this 'price', you ask? An invasion. Monsters from another world. Creatures we've only known through fork lore, myths and fantasy novels. They came from portals, known as Dungeon Gates, threatening all of mankind as we knew it. So in order to fight this catastrophe, the evolution happened. Half of the world's already large population Awakened as superhumans with Skills, Spells and Special Attacks all so they could pass through the Gates, enter the Dungeons and clear them. One by one. Thus marked the beginning of the Great Age Of Warriors. Name's Raid. And I'm one such Warrior. Now here's the kicker. I'm an F-Rank. The first one in history. Due to my low Mana Capacity, I could only choose one Class. The infamous Blacksmith Class. A Class no one even looked at twice, because weapons of mass destruction can easily be created with today's technology without much hassle. Now I'm faced with the reality of being seen as the weakest Warrior of all time, but you know what? To hell with it all. I'll make the most of the cards I've been dealt, even if those cards are...pretty shitty cards. I'll show all those High-Ranked Warriors what's what. They'll know my name whether they want to or not. Tag along for the ride if you're interested. Because once I get going, I'm not stopping until I reach the top.

An assassin decides to write a memoire of his exploits. This assassin who calls himself, the Fool, reincarnated into a world where everyone but him had awaken an ability. This is a first hand recount of the man who, relying on the gift of the Lord of Mischief; Loki, took the throne as the Apex Assassin in the world that despised him! Disclaimer: Cover picture isn't mine. Let me know if you want me to bring it down.

By day, an academy cadet; by night, a thief. I possessed the villain in the game. There is only one way to survive. “Raid The Academy.” THIS IS A TRANSLATION AND IF THE ORIGINAL OWNERS WANTS IT TO BE TAKEN DOWN PLEASE CONTACT ME.

Aaron a 17 year old a drop out with no job and no home he begins to rob people with luxuries as he did the man in their home shot him in in the chest multiple times as Aaron persist on living but died as later on god gave him second chance but Aaron has no wish to join an army instead he wishes to join night raid

No longer here. Will be back sometime in the future.

If you are reading this, it must've begun. The spark as been ignited and it's just a matter of time before it becomes a flame. When the world began, Human's existed, there's no reason to explain the reason for their existence. But even without it, it's hard to neglect their nature. Humans are only driven by desire, most of those desires are guided by sins. They tainted the world in sins, and brought unto themselves , judgment. Lifes were obviously taken, laws were broken but still they survived. Most of who survived gained access to power that was never meant to appear. Because, even such judgement had to be fair. In the end, the judgement will only start when the flame is lit and ends when all sins are cleansed.

Some say he's the rat's droppings in the cultivation world, disrupting righteousness and order, causing chaos among the Dao sects! Some say he's the biggest scum in Southern Zhanbu Province, colluding with demonic forces, deceiving and committing all sorts of evils! To all the slander, Fang Xing responds: 'That's right, I'm indeed that legendary rat's droppings. Any issues with that?

Some empires are built on stars. Others are built on blood. Aziri was born into the silver and blues, heir to a lineage of planetary commanders, generals, and fleet lords who shaped and protected civilizations across the cosmos. He grew up beneath Mercury's borrowed skies, where ancient mythologies breathed alongside alien philosophy and the scars of the Great War still hummed in the bones of every species alive to tell it. Then the Diamond Rain fell. In a single night, everything Aziri knew about his family, his allies, and his world are erased. Not by war or by chance. But by a plan so well designed anyone would not think twice. What followed was worse than death. Captured, sold, and stripped of everything including his name, Aziri is broken piece by piece, his memories buried, his will hollowed out by those who traffic in the powerful and the forgotten. In the gladiatorial pits, he bleeds for the entertainment of the Whites, the untouchable elite who sit at the summit of the universe and wager lives the way lesser men wager coin. He is not meant to remember who he was. He is not meant to survive long enough to matter. But something ancient refuses to stay buried. The familiar within him, a serpent older than the empire that enslaved him claws its way through the brainwashing in a tide of destruction that cannot be reasoned with, only survived. When the smoke clears, Aziri is not free. He is simply owned by different hands. Conscripted into the empire's shadow operations, he is sent to Callisto as a spy, a blade pointed at the heart of the Heavenly Demonic Cult, tasked with sowing chaos among the most dangerous faithful in the known cosmos. He does not expect to find a teacher there. He does not expect to find truth. But the Cult's master carries a philosophy that cuts deeper than any weapon, and in the fires of demonic cultivation Aziri begins to fuse with his serpent, survive the hollowing that was meant to unmake him, and pull back the first thread of the conspiracy that swallowed his bloodline whole. discord: https://discord.gg/2rJ2hgzj

NULL: The Raid That Never Ends No one has ever cleared NULL. The dungeon—if it can even be called that—rejects strength, mocks talent, and devours heroes. Elite guilds collapse inside it. Legendary hunters die without leaving bodies behind. Every raid ends in failure, and every failure leaves scars on the world outside. Eiran Holt is not strong. He is a support-type leader with no offensive abilities and no hope of carrying a team on his own. His only talent is guiding others—organizing formations, making decisions under pressure, and holding people together when everything begins to fall apart. But in NULL, everyone who follows him eventually dies. Each raid ends the same way: teammates falling one by one, their trust placed in Eiran until their final moments. And with every death, something is recorded—not power, not stats, but memory. Experience paid for in lives. Guilds call him cursed. Survivors call him heartless. Analysts call him an anomaly. Yet raid after raid, Eiran reaches deeper than anyone else. As NULL adapts, twists, and begins to recognize him, Eiran is forced to confront a question no one else will ask: If a dungeon cannot be cleared, is it still worth leading people into it? This is not a story about conquering a tower. It is a story about leadership, loss, and the cost of staying behind when everyone else is gone.

In her past life, Su Yaoguang bought Xiao Yanci, supported his education, and helped him rise to great heights. She became his wife. Everyone praised him for never abandoning the farm girl who funded his rise. Su Yaoguang also believed she had found a good man. Unexpectedly, when she was seriously ill, she saw Xiao Yanci bring his first love and a child who resembled them both to her bedside. "Dad, mom, when will this person die?" the child asked, holding Xiao Yanci's hand. Xiao Yanci responded, "Soon, just wait a bit longer." That was the moment she realized: she had wasted her entire life on the wrong man. Returning to the age of fifteen, Su Yaoguang pointed at the bloody young boy: "I want him." In her past life, no matter what she gave Xiao Yanci, she only received a cold expression. This time, the young boy, like a wolf cub, dropped his guard; everything Sister gifted was the best. Sweet as milk. Devoted beyond reason. He melted her completely. Until one day, the young boy took a high position. Not wanting history to repeat itself, Su Yaoguang packed her things and slipped away at night, only to run into a man as noble and unattainable as a deity. "I've heard you call us siblings everywhere. Good sister, shouldn't we change what we call each other?"