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Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

What do the words Third-Rate Villain mean? Doesn't every human being possess their own background story? Just because a game hadn't explored one's background story, does it mean those characters are irrelevant? In a world where video games come to life, Astron Natusalune is introduced as a seemingly insignificant character—a third-rate villain with a minor role. However, this ordinary facade belies a haunting past that has shaped Astron into the vengeful soul he has become. Someone who would do everything for his vengeance. What will occur if Astron's soul combines with one from Earth? Will he relinquish his position as a third-rate villain, or will he forge a new path? Driven by a singular purpose—to avenge his sister's tragic death and bring justice to a cruel world—Astron embarks on a transformative journey. Witness the journey of the Astron as the young boy experiences a profound shift in his own values as he witnesses firsthand the consequences of unchecked vengeance and the true complexities of morality. -----------------------------------0------------------------------------ Chapter length 1750-2500 At least one chapter a day. You can check my discord if you want. You will be able to see the illustrations here and engage in a conversation with me if I am available. https://discord.gg/BQRMhDxZr8 ---------------------------0------------------------------ Business E-mail: yusuftalhayasar@outlook.com Discord: _yty_

Darkness_Enjoyer · Fantasy
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796 Chs

Chapter 167.1 - Return to the Academy

The faint aroma of freshly brewed tea filled the hotel suite as Irina stepped out of the bathroom, her fiery hair damp and clinging to her shoulders. She wore a soft white robe, loosely tied around her waist, the faint heat of her skin still lingering from the shower. 

Her amber eyes swept the room, landing on Astron seated in the plush armchair near the small tea table. He had also showered, his damp hair tousled, and wore simple black pajamas that added to his relaxed yet composed demeanor. 

On the table beside him sat a teapot and two cups, one of which emitted faint wisps of steam. Irina's lips curved into a small smile as she approached, her steps light on the carpeted floor. 'He made tea,' she thought, a flicker of warmth settling in her chest. It was a simple gesture, but after the day they'd had, it felt comforting.