Novel & Cerita Cant Think Straight Manwha

Damn, that hits me square in the gut. Glass breaks everywhere as we plunge into the chaos, avoiding a truck that smashes into a storefront. A woman is blasted by my light, and as she falls, free but trembling, her screams transform into sobs. "Go on!" Shadows slam another entity into a brick wall, shattering it like smoke as Jude yells. However, there are far too many, and my mind is racing with images of Seraphin priests, ancient chants, and light erasing darkness. Digging deep, I try to force those old rituals out of my mind and mutter, "I can do this."

I started laughing maniacally, tears forming in my eyes. “I should take a shower so that I would be refreshed and less angry? So we can look presentable at the masquerade ball? Are you even listening to yourself? You just killed a woman based on your source which may have been wrong and you expect me to behave cool about you. You are crazy”, I screamed.

“The cable’s dead!” Her mother, from inside the kitchen, shouted back, “Good! Focus on your future instead!” “I already passed the boards. Let me live!” She banged the remote once on the wall — gently, like a polite threat — and then narrowed her eyes toward the upstairs. That tenant. Mister Intense. Mr. Secret-Jawline. The man who had mocked her math skills just yesterday. He definitely had working cable. She knew it. Her mind lit up like a Bollywood background score.

First meeting. America Alexey came out of the entrance and heard a madman shouting from the fifth floor: "go to hell with your Democracy!". Then Alexey dodged a slipper flying at him, which the madman from the fifth floor threw out of the window. Alexey thought: "After all, indeed! What is Democracy? How do our people understand this word?". He decided to ask ordinary people on the street about what they say every single day in the news reports on TV, as if they want to hypnotize us so that we believe in the reality of its existence. The first thing he did was go to the grocery store to talk to someone about it. He walked over to the merchandiser and spoke to him:

His face cannot be put into words. ‘Abe. Men can only think in three ways. Head, heart and dick. The head is there to reason, the heart to pump blood to the dick and the dick? It’s just a nuisance. Unfortunately, most men can’t use their head to reason until their heart has pumped up their dick – and a woman has helped get it down again.’ I cannot record his next sentence, mainly because it was incomprehensible. I think he was trying to say, ‘What are you doing, Cornelia?’