MTL - The Warm Breeze is not as Warm as You - Chapter 859 You are my little love song (Qin Ge 134)

*Slow Burn Historical Fantasy Novel*

Elise had about to change into the dress that was lying on the corner of her bed when she heard a knock lightly calling from her door. Curious, she turned the door knob only to have a tall man towering in front of her.

“Master Ian!” She called.

Ian smiled with the usual mischievous smirk that he always used. His crimson eyes trailing a little over her room and spotted the black dress over her bed and shifted his eyes over to the woman in front of him. He stepped forward and spoke. “Where did you acquire that dress?”

“Mr. Harland gave it to me.” Elise replied and strained her neck to see Ian’s brows knitted in its elegance.

“Do you know why a man would love to give a woman a dress?” He gave the riddle that she always had to think twice before replying. But this time, she found no answer and instead shook her head. “I don’t know.”

His grin grew bewitching as though something had stirred deep inside the scarlet eyes that he had. He slowly slid his hand over the collar of her dress, sending a cold shiver that startled her for a moment due to its freezing temperature. After unbuttoning the first two buttons on her collar, he tilted his head down, whispering to her ears. “Because they want to be the one to undress the cloth.”

He paused and kissed her neck, turning the pale skin to red before retracting his move to fix his eyes on her and leisurely replied. “Unfortunately, you can’t wear the dress over there with this.” He chuckled and passed a box over to her hand. “And the fortunate news is I prepared a dress for you.”

Elise was a cursed little girl who could see ghosts. Her family hated her and threw her from one adoptive family to another. However, misfortune didn't act alone. When she was brought up by her aunt, she was sold as a slave. When she had thought she would become nothing but a sacrifice to the sorcerer, she was saved by a man whose identity was far different than a normal mythical being.

Alex was just another ordinary gamer—until the day he died. Struck down by a terminal illness, he found solace in his favorite game, a vast fantasy RPG filled with powerful warriors, intricate politics, and world-shaking events. But before he could see the game's ending, fate had other plans.When he opens his eyes again, he’s no longer Alex from Earth. Instead, he’s Alex Dragonheart, a nameless extra in the very game he once played. Not a protagonist. Not even a villain. Just an unknown side character who was fated to die early, forgotten by history.Armed with only half of the game’s knowledge, an unawakened bloodline, and a mysterious sealed skill, Alex is thrown into a brutal world where strength is everything. His beloved younger sister is sick and needs treatment, but his past self had been powerless to save her. Not anymore.Determined to rewrite his fate, Alex will rise through the ranks, manipulate events from the shadows, and seize power that was never meant for him. If fate refuses to acknowledge him, then he’ll carve his own legend—one that even the gods will fear.After all, in a world where only the strong survive, even an extra can become a nightmare.( Okay guys just because there is a system tag does not mean he will get everything handed to him he will have to work hard to attain power because I will make it so )

This is a story of an ordinary boy gaining unusual powers from his nightmares… It all started when Lin Sheng experienced something strange on what he thought was just another normal day. He begins to have recurring dreams that lead him on an incredible journey of discovery as he encounters spine-chilling monsters and elusive secrets.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”