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/.바카라라이브온라인게임

Author: q1UUx0202
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What is /.바카라라이브온라인게임

Read /.바카라라이브온라인게임 novel written by the author q1UUx0202 on WebNovel, This serial novel genre is History stories, ✓ Newest updated ✓ All rights reserved

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One day Sam wakes up in a world full of zombies and tries to survive. PS First of all i would not recommend this novel if you haven't read like hundred of novels already. Its pretty weird and depressing novel. This story is told almost completely from MC point of view. Third person. MC is a pretty ugly random guy with different psychological problems. He is antisocial and limited person. Lore - Since MC is limited and barely interested in people or just surroundings, you will get pretty limited descriptions on stuff, it was meant to be like that. Characters - Obviously for the same reason, you will not see much characters, usually you wont get their description or even names. Fights - I personally hate those fights in novels which take like few chapters to describe some shitty encounters. For example MC is making his "move" and then you get half chapter of description of his thoughts and the ways his face is looking, and the way like his opponent surprised and the way crowd is reacting and so on. I really hate all that shit so fights in this novel will be described not that often, only if an equal or a new opponent, and only in a strict and straightforward way, no bullshit. Now this novel is not exactly fantasy, its more like grim realistic-fantasy. But i will have to explain what i mean. Lets take rape in most novels as an example. Usually MC will be justified to rape a girl one way or another. Common example is aphrodisiac. Or the girl were trying to kill him so he had to "punish" her. Or she just happened to jump on his thing and then after rape she become his girlfriend etc, Those are examples of "fan service" in novel. So MC would be justified and readers woun't feel too uncomfortable to read something like that. So there is no "fan service" in this novel, like at all. You will have to read some stuff that will make you feel uncomfortable and you woun't like it. Common sense also means that there is barely gonna be any "random" events which MC is gonna be part of. No treasures and superpowers he founds because he is "special". He will not meet antagonists on his way. This novels world will not spin around MC in any way. He will usually sit in his deep cave and no one around will give a damn about him or even know of his existence. So this novel is not for you to have fun and enjoy reading. Not to make you feel comfortable, satisfied or happy. Its probably the opposite. This novel is kinda trashy and requires editing but its not the worst trash you ever read.

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THE GIRL AND THE GHOST

THE GHOST KNEW his master was about to die, and he wasn’t exactly unhappy about it. He knew that sounded bad. You’d think, after all those years together, that even he might have felt a twinge of sadness about the whole situation. But it’s hard to feel sorry for someone when: a) you’re a ghost, and everyone knows ghosts don’t have hearts, and b) that someone made her living out of forcing you to make other people miserable. He stared at her now as she lay on the narrow bed, gray and gaunt in the light of the full moon, her breath rasping and shallow. Watching her teeter slowly toward the end was a bit like watching a grape slowly become a raisin: the years had sucked the life and vitality out of her until she was nothing but a wrinkled shell of her former self. “Well,” she wheezed, squinting at him. Well, he said. “One more for the road, eh?” she said, nodding to the full moon out the window. And she grimaced as she offered him the ring finger of her right hand, as she had done so many times before. The ghost nodded. It seemed frivolous, but after all, he still needed to eat, whether or not his master lay dying. As he bent his head over the wrinkled hand, his sharp little teeth pricking the skin worn and calloused from time and use, the witch let out a sharp breath. Her blood used to be rich and strong and so thick with her magic that the ghost could get himself drunk on it, if he wasn’t careful. Now all he tasted was the stale tang of age, the sour notesthat came with impending death, and a bitter aftertaste he couldn’t quite place. Regret, perhaps. It was the regret that was hardest to swallow. The ghost drank nothing more than he had to, finishing quickly and sealing the tiny pinpricks of his teeth on her skin with spit. It is done, he told her, the words familiar as a favorite song, the ritual as comforting as a warm blanket. And I am bound to you, until the end. The witch patted his horned head gently. Her touch surprised him —she had never been particularly affectionate. “Well,” she said, her voice nothing more than a sigh. “The end is now.” And she turned her head to the window, where the sun was just rising over the cusp of the world, and died.

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Hel and the Emerald Sky City

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