Mmorpger Reborn Novels & Stories

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC VIOLENCE AND GORE (DISMEMBERMENT, FEEDING). As Cruella's bones kept changing positions making her vulnerable, the girls thought of it as an opportunity to run but Maeve saw it as an opportunity to get revenge. She was frightened by Cruella's sudden strength but now that she was going through whatever this is, she wanted to teach her a lesson. “Come on Maeve, let's get out of here.” One of her minions said. It's obvious the girl was fucking scared but Maeve cared less.

"Sephy's sincerity doesn't need your judgment, and you're nowhere near deserving Morpheus for the rest of your life!" "What?" "He's Morpheus Orton, didn't you know?" Wynn emphasized each word. "He's the general of this country, the war god of Southeast Aciatic!" A tinge of shock crossed Rebecca's face, her eyes widening. So... he wasn't just a simple fighter nor a small-time thug surviving in the underground scene in Flinge.

Could it be that the heavens heard me? So I'm not dead. Is this a second chance... To rewrite my mistakes?

"Can you recover the money or not? Don't drag all of us down with you. If anything goes wrong, you can pay the price yourself." I shot him a sidelong look, finding something oddly off about his behavior. Everyone knew that my skills were top-notch. If even I couldn't recover the money, then we'd truly be finished. However, Chester acted as though he was terrified I'd recover the money. Besides, when I was trying to break through the firewall, the hacker's code seemed a little familiar. Yet, I couldn't figure out when I had encountered it before. "You should worry about saving yourself. Mr. Watch is investigating what happened earlier."

His deep voice boomed loud through murmurs, cutting off everybody. Thank you all for coming," he said, his voice firm and laden. "We cannot turn a blind eye to the Dark Moon pack's intentions. They have been spotted on the edge of our borders, and we must be ready for anything." Sophia sat down beside Ash, her younger brother. He had always idolized their father, and Sophia could see the concern etched in his eyes. What do you think's gonna happen?" Ash whispered, his head close to hers. "You don't really think that they'd actually attack us?"

"Senna, did you think getting a second life meant you could do whatever you wanted? Too bad. This time around, I came back too." Her pupils shrank. The color in her face faded completely. "You... You were reborn too?" I did not answer. I just looked at her. Maggie rested a hand on my shoulder. Her voice was gentle, but the weight behind it was unmistakable. "Gage, the police are already downstairs. What do you want to do to her?" I looked at Senna's face, the same face I had once been obsessed with. Now, all I felt was revulsion. "Whatever she did to me and my father in the last life, I want it paid back a hundred times over."

I think you should be focusing on your studies instead of pulling stunts like this. After regaining consciousness, I was met with a barrage of accusatory glances. If it had been before, I would have been too embarrassed to say anything, and my face would turn red with shame. Yet, at this very moment, I was seething with fury and resentment; I was no longer that timid version of myself. I had been reborn. I snatched the pink letter from his grasp and unfolded it while saying, "You went to that backwater high school, and you call that studying abroad? You're truly delusional.

Then, a spirit user has to charm the stake with Spirit, infusing it with the power of life. The Moroi who had charmed the stake with spirit had to be the one to stake the Strigoi right through the heart, just as with a normal staking. But instead of death, there was life reborn. The Strigoi would be reborn as a Moroi, their thirst for blood gone, and their evil nature replaced with goodness and light. It was a risky process, and many had tried and failed. But there were a few who had succeeded, and their stories were told throughout the Moroi community as tales of hope and redemption.

They moved with terrifying, algorithmic precision, their white-light spears leveled at the chaotic mob of players. "Hold the line!" Marcus bellowed, slamming his shield into a golden knight and shattering its pristine code. "Do not let them push us back into the static!" It was a meat grinder. Spells exploded. Swords clashed against light-spears. Corrupted players were "killed," their avatars shattering into pixels, only to respawn seconds later at the edge of the Quarantine Zone and run straight back into the fight. They had permadeath in their real bodies, but here in the Ghost Server, their anger was infinite.