Reborn with Eyes of Fate - Chapter 2: The First Night

Oh Kang-Woo suddenly fell into Hell one day. The only things he had were his desire to live and the Authority of Predation. He devoured hundreds of thousands of demons from the First Hell all the way to the Ninth Hell, and even made the seven princes of Hell bow down to him.

“Why are you trying to go back? You already have everything that you could possibly desire here in Hell.”

“I have everything? Like what?”

There was nothing to eat or enjoy! The only things in Hell were desolate lands and hideous demons!

“I’m going back.”

He finally goes back to Earth after ten grueling millennia.

……………………………………………………………

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Uchiha Natsuki obtained the power system, revived Uchiha, and created the strongest force in the ninja world.

Exclude me Uchiha? Sorry, we quit!

Whoever the garrison likes will go!

“Kakashi, Danzo was the mastermind behind White Fang’s death and was connived by the Third Generation. You actually worked for Konoha!?”

“Itachi, this time I will awaken the Eternal Kaleidoscope for you.”

“Bai, your actual combat ability is too weak. Please enter the Tsukiyomi space to practice for a few years.”

Sorry, we Uchiha have kaleidoscope per capita.

Who can fight in a group fight these days? Get on my shoulder!

Otsutsuki is coming to destroy the world, but you are still striving to be Hokage. There is something wrong with you.

Danzo: “We must not allow Uchiha to gain power!”

“Sir, Uchiha Fugaku has resigned from his position as captain of the Konoha Guard.”

“???”

Third Generation: “The position of Hokage will never be given to you as Uchiha!”

“Hokage-sama, Uchiha has withdrawn from the Hokage campaign.”

“???”

“Sir! Uchiha has established his own country!”

“What!?”

“It’s not rare for us Uchiha to use a Hokage as a treasure. Let’s wait and use him as a target.”

ps: Hizashi did not die simply because he wanted Neji to have a father.

- Description from novelbuddy

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.

Perhaps the paintings in a museum are subjected to more nonsense than you would hear anywhere else in the world.The language that comes out of an artist’s life is the painting itself. It contains the most ordinary lives that know failure, desire, recoiling in fear, and compromise.Learning is about understanding that language. We miss much of what the paintings speak because there is no way to ask the long-dead painters about the philosophy of their lives.In an alleyway in the residential area of Jongno, there’s a peculiar art gallery. This place enables us to transcend such limitations. By sheer coincidence, I ended up visiting that place and began living an entirely different life.