The Devil's Cursed Witch - Chapter 461: Good Night, My Mate

At first, when he learned that he was forced to go to many different routine worlds and be reborn into all kinds of cannon fodder, he was against it.

Joseph Sullivan is at an all-time low. He lost his job, his fiancée dumped him, he moved back to the Midwest and currently lives in his parent’s basement—oh, and his workout was just interrupted with the arrival of the System.Earth has become a playing field in a contest amongst the gods, where mortals are the pawns. The winning god gets the glory, and their chosen champion gets a single wish. The first stage of this game: Tutorial – Class Selection.Provided the ideal stat array for a physical, combat-focused class, the choice for Joe is obvious. Until he fat thumbs the selection screen and ends up selecting Spellcaster. His starting Intelligence stat? 1.With a useless class selection and only his raw testosterone-fueled strength to back him up, Joe decides class optimization is for dummies. Pumping all stat points in Strength, he hopes to not only survive the contest of the gods, but to win the whole damned thing.After all, a real wizard should be measured by how much they can bench!

Everyone wants superpowers, including Alden Thorn.But even if he's lucky enough to be one of the few humans granted magical abilities by the extraterrestrial System that's been running things on Earth for decades, his goal of being a battlefield support hero is still a long way off.He's got determination on his side and maybe a murderous alien desk clerk, too.The universe is a complicated place. Alden's about to meet it.

The clock struck midnight when Ruelle heard the echo of footsteps. She tensed, the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing on end in the cool night air.“You shouldn't be here,” Ruelle whispered, her voice a breathless murmur. The silhouette finally came to stand under the moonlight, his dark red eyes watching her and his inky black hair ruffling.“Shouldn't I?” His voice was a dark caress, and she stood there captivated by the danger he exuded like perfume.“I haven’t seen you for the last two days,” his tone low. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the silk of her nightgown, tracing the trembling outline of her collarbone. “Tell me, were you avoiding me, or perhaps... entertaining other offers?”Ruelle’s heart raced, her breaths shallow. She declared, “I don't belong to anyone.”“A bold claim,“ he murmured, his breath a tantalising chill against her skin as he leaned in. ”Yet here you are, pulse racing, your body tensed as if in anticipation of my touch.”His fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face towards his. The moonlight caught his eyes, revealing a glint of predatory intent. “Or must I remind you whose touch you truly crave?”