The Maknae Has to Be an Idol - Chapter 229

'I should have stayed home and played video games' this was Ray's last thought before darkness engulfed him after he was hit by a car.

But surprisingly instead of finding himself before the gate of hell after dying, Ray found out he was transmigrated into another world.

The world Ray was transmitted to was called Arora world, a world where you can use different kinds of skills, magic and can even get powerful classes.

Ray found himself in a body of a young boy called Evan, who was studying in a hunter academy after awakening his ability at the age of fourteen.

At first, Ray was happy that he was transmigrated into the body of someone who has awakened his ability and can use the magic that he always wanted to use.

But when Ray goes through the memories of Evan, he finally found out everything is not as simple as he was expecting.

Evan has a unique physique that doesn't allow him to increase his power like other people, because of his useless unique physique Evan was the weakest hunter in the entire academy.

And that was not all the more Ray looks at the memories of Evan the more he realizes just how troublesome his situation is.

“I know I enter in this body without buying a ticket but isn't this too much?” Ray said in a depressed voice after going through the memories of Evan.

Will Ray be able to survive in this new world?

Is the physique of his new body really useless?

Join Ray In his adventure to find out.

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Liu Qing resigned.

He wrote on the reasons for his resignation:

“I’m going to inherit hundreds of millions of properties.”

- 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.