Ar'Kendrithyst - 006

I just shut the door, why should I kill the devil.

No, I need a demon hunter, Dante, it’s up to you.

Cultists, demons, traitors, and even fanatics, it seems that there are too many things to cut. This world needs justice, and now justice is angry.

(Mainly the PF system, and then the Pathfinder Wrath of Righteous mod. Note that mods are not games.)

(In the end, all the dice in this novel use real dice, not dice girls, nor set by myself.)

- Description from novelbuddy

Roan transmigrated as an FBI investigator.Several years later, a journalist interviewed the world-renowned detective Roan Greenwood and asked,“What made you persist in solving cases for so many years?”Roan tilted his head and glanced at the sports car beside him, the villa behind him, and the beautiful woman inside the villa. He smiled slightly and said,“Well, the bonus after solving the case.”“What?”

It wasn’t until he paid a huge price for giving up emotions that he realized how important they were to practice martial arts.

In his previous life, in order to become a master, he had given up all his emotions and became a ruthless expert. But in the end, he realized that it was meaningless living as a person without any emotions. Before he died, he regretted a lot and made a wish that if he could be reborn, he would never be a heartless person again. He would be a person with feelings, a true person.

He had actually been reborn. In this life, he had adopted seven orphans, and each one was a genius material for cultivation. However, he could not cultivate in the beginning, so he had to keep selling off his family’s assets in order to maintain the children’s education and living needs. When he remembered the memories of his previous life, the time he had spent with his children had made him feel the great power of love even more. Through his experience of emotions, his cultivation progress in this life was incredibly fast. He cultivated together with the children, searching for treasures, and even helped many people succeed in cultivating. In the end, the battle began, and he became the publicly acknowledged strongest expert.

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.