Bagaimana Penerjemah Menerjemahkan Distinctive Artinya?

Prince Sari is the current Prince of Kabinihan. Just like the previous rulers of their land, he possesses alluring beauty, elegance and admirable intelligence that is very suited for a royalty like him. Not known to many, he is a "Chosen Vessel" and has the Mark of Kasarinlan on his lower abdomen – a flower-shaped tattoo that signifies that the offspring is the next vessel to carry Kasarinlan's child. He is a heretic, and some think making him the next King would soil the kingdom's sole purpose: that is to serve their mighty Deity Kasarinlan and make him satisfied always. If they are to nurture Prince Sari and present him to the deity, their peaceful reign might disappear in a blink of an eye. On his 18th birthday, a personal adviser is assigned to Prince Sari – his name is Ulan. Ulan is tasked to give guidance to the Prince before he faces Kasarinlan in person. Until then, the Prince must learn various things as part of his destiny. Will he be able to bring prosper to his beloved land and people... or will he be the key to their downfall?

Bizarre cases start to haunt Leounet's famous detective trio. Detective Mhorein Layla Agustin, Chain Yuan Castranuevo and, Office Aiden Jake Ignatio, Start dealing with these one of a kind cases that are accompanied with codes. Codes that get harder to decode and cases becoming more and more terrifying. Until terrifying became traumatizing. Will they make it out alive while dealing with their own personal problems and character growth?

I'm a special kind of courier. Instead of packages, I transport beautiful women. I drop them off at designated locations and pick them up afterward. Each round trip earns me a thousand dollars. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that my crush would climb into my car one day. What's more, she'd brought my sister along, saying they wanted to make some quick money together.

I have always had an almost pathological sense of paranoia. Ever since I was a child, I was convinced that the people around me were out to get me. Back in elementary school, when everyone was lining up for their student ID photos, I flatly refused to have mine taken. I insisted that the district office was going to use my picture for identity theft. The situation escalated so badly that the principal had to personally sit me down and spend half an hour trying to convince me otherwise. Then, there was the fingerprint registration system in middle school. The school required every student to submit their fingerprints to access the campus buildings. I was so terrified that someone would steal my biometric data that I literally rubbed the skin off all ten fingertips to make them unreadable. Even when my fingers were bleeding, I kept shouting that they were trying to steal my identity. I would rather climb over the school fence every day than cooperate. Every relative I had called me crazy. My parents were so fed up that they seriously considered having me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. I did not care. I guarded my privacy with obsessive determination, gritting my teeth and holding my ground all the way up to the eve of the final exams. Then came the day before the exam. That afternoon, our homeroom teacher, Tracy Collins, walked into the classroom carrying a metal lockbox. A warm, motherly smile spread across her face as she set it down on the desk. "Everyone," she said, "to make sure nobody forgets their documents tomorrow, I'd like you to hand over your IDs and exam admission slips for safekeeping tonight." She patted the lockbox reassuringly. "Tomorrow morning, I'll personally return them to each of you outside the testing center. This way, there's absolutely nothing that can go wrong." The class was deeply moved by her thoughtfulness. Some students even looked close to tears as they eagerly pulled out their documents and lined up to hand them over. Everyone except me. My hand clamped down over my pocket so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Cold sweat poured down my back. A sharp alarm bell was ringing in my head. Trying not to attract attention, I fished out a spare flip phone from my bag, ducked beneath my desk, and dialed emergency services. As soon as the call connected, I lowered my voice and spoke into the receiver. "Hello. I'd like to report a crime. My name is Charles. "I believe a teacher at St. Alden High is working with an identity-fraud ring and is planning a large-scale operation tonight involving examination fraud and identity theft."

I fell in love with a cold, taciturn tattoo artist named Henry Kane. So I deliberately damaged my tattoo again and again, picking at the skin and reworking the design, just to see him a few more times. By the third visit for touch-ups, scrolling comments suddenly appeared before my eyes: “I’m dying of laughter. This desperate female lead literally destroyed her freshly tattooed skin just to see the male lead again, and she still didn’t dare confess her feelings.” “Henry Kane is actually the embodiment of an ancient ferocious beast who sat on mountains of gold and silver but refused to spend them, choosing instead to open a tattoo studio to experience mortal life.” “He looks icy and distant, but his possessiveness has long since maxed out.” “He was just afraid his violent nature would scare his woman away.” I looked at the man in front of me, who was lowering his head as he wiped down the tattoo machine, and he did indeed give off an unmistakable keep-your-distance aura. But the comments claimed that he wanted to possess me? “Um… Excuse me?” The man tilted his head slightly, and under the weight of his deep gaze, the confession lodged in my throat. My mind short-circuited, and I blurted out, “I… I wanted to tattoo it on my lower back this time.” In an instant, the comments exploded in joy. “Woohoo! We’re taking off!” “Lower back, you say? That’s a sensitive spot! Can this pure-hearted ferocious beast really hold back?” “Good grief, straight to the undressing scene! This cunning move by the female lead is operating on a whole other level!” The man’s hand gripping the tattoo machine jerked to a sudden stop, and the air seemed to freeze for a few seconds. Then he answered, his voice slightly hoarse and unreadable, “Alright.”

After the tragic incident inside the huge mansion of the Finregans, Kalia wants nothing but justice for her parents. With the intense desire to serve justice to them, she entered the same agency where her parents used to work because she believes that only there, she will be able to get information about her parents' killer. However, that desire didn't only lead her to the justice but also towards the girl she is destined to be with. The agency and personal mission became the bridge to meet the woman she is destined for. From the moment, she realized... her life is altered. Exquisitely Altered.