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Strongest Extra Survival

A fantasy story of a boy named William in search of something that could help him, overcoming the curse he unknowingly invited upon himself. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ In the center of a vast city stands a towering building that nearly scrapes the sky: the Tower of Babylon. A marvel of humanity, this tower was constructed using nothing but science and primitive tools. Though credit for its creation is largely attributed to an unknown architect, that very architect can be found not within the tower itself, but rather in the alley behind it. In this alley, a young man can be seen rummaging through trash cans in search of food. "One advantage of being near a big building is that there's always some good food here," he chuckled to himself. Despite his unkempt appearance—long, dirty hair, a scraggly beard, and a face smeared with dirt—his striking blue eyes remain his most prominent feature. Maxwell, as he's known, glanced up at the towering structure of the Tower of Babylon and muttered, "Who could even believe that I designed this building?" With a sigh, he began to eat the meager meal he had scavenged for the day. Suddenly, a black portal materialized before him, prompting Maxwell to eye it suspiciously. "Rich folk sure have weird tastes, mixing drugs into food," he mumbled as he discarded his meal and resumed his search. Unbeknownst to Maxwell, a young girl briefly emerged from the portal before it vanished, snapping her fingers in his direction. Oblivious to this, Maxwell continued his search, only to look up in shock as trucks began to rain down from the sky around him. "Now, trucks are raining from the sky!" he exclaimed in frustration, his voice echoing through the alley.

Boring_World · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
122 Chs

Changes

"Please, sit on your throne," Azarealis said, her voice calm and respectful. William nodded, walking toward the grand throne that now stood at the center of the room. As he lowered himself into the seat, he noticed the unusual texture. It felt surprisingly soft, despite the imposing appearance of the dark stone structure.

"It's made from demon hide," Azarealis explained, her tone almost casual. "A big one, with a lot of fur. Took me some effort to hunt it down, but I wanted to ensure your seat was as formidable as it is comfortable."

William ran his fingers over the armrests, feeling the smooth, supple texture beneath his hands. The craftsmanship was remarkable, but it was the sheer power radiating from the throne that caught his attention. "You've changed," he said, his voice low but thoughtful as he looked at her, taking in how much more confident and composed she seemed compared to when he last saw her.