Swordmaster’s Youngest Son - Chapter 641: A handful of soil 1

On the eve of the millennium, a sixteen-year-old Chinese boy left his hometown and came to Europe just to play football to support his family.

But he didn’t expect that an adventure would make his football career unique from then on.

Twenty years of ups and downs, he has won countless honors, looking back, Ronaldo, Zidane, Ronaldinho, Ronaldo, Messi, Mbappe and many other stars are all shining, But there is only one king of the ball, hanging high in the sky like the sun, shining forever!

(No system, talent improvement + hard training)

- Description from novelbuddy

Only I know the end of this world.

One day our MC finds himself stuck in the world of his favorite webnovel. What does he do to survive? It is a world struck by catastrophe and danger all around.

His edge? He knows the plot of the story to end. Because he was the sole reader that stuck with it. Read his story to see how he survives!

Japan – National News BroadcastThe polished news anchor sat upright, her gaze sharp as she adjusted the stack of papers before her. The newsroom behind her hummed with quiet urgency, the weight of the moment settling over the broadcast.“Authorities are baffled by a sudden and unexplained surge in sleep-related deaths across Japan,” she began, her voice steady yet tense. “More and more citizens are passing away in their sleep without any prior health concerns. Experts are working tirelessly to determine the cause, but no clear explanation has emerged. Authorities urge the public to remain vigilant and report any unusual symptoms before bedtime.”A graphic appeared, displaying the spike in fatalities over the past month. Behind her, unsettling photographs flickered across the screen—blurred images of individuals found in their beds, their faces frozen in expressions of terror.The anchor’s tone shifted. “Health officials recommend citizens avoid excessive fatigue and maintain healthy sleep habits. More updates will follow as investigations continue.”---United States – Paranormal PodcastIn a dimly lit podcast studio, the host leaned forward, his eyes wide with curiosity. Across from him, a rugged man in a worn flannel shirt, gripping a faded photograph in one hand and a beer can in the other, leaned back in his chair.“So, you're telling me you saw this creature firsthand?” the host asked, clearly intrigued.The man scoffed, shaking his head. “Damn right, I did. Ugly thing had wings bigger than my body—slow but sneaky. Thought it could steal my pigs again, but I was ready this time—camera in one hand, shotgun in the other.”He slammed the table for emphasis, then shoved the blurry image toward the host. The photograph depicted a small, red-skinned humanoid figure with large, bat-like wings, its eyes glowing faintly in the darkness.“Spit, the thing didn’t know what hit it when I fired!” the man chuckled, his voice full of excitement.The host held up the picture to the live chat. “Alright, what do you think? Mothman? Demon? Or is our friend here just seeing things?”The chat exploded with theories—some skeptical, others eager for the investigation to continue.---China – Liangyuan Street MarketSurveillance footage from a bustling night market in China captured a chilling scene. A woman in a red qipao walked gracefully through the crowd, her figure striking in the soft glow of lanterns.Suddenly, she paused. Her body flickered—like a glitch in a video—before vanishing completely, as though she had never existed.The footage zoomed in, replaying in slow motion. In the final frame before she disappeared, her face distorted unnaturally, her eyes hollow and empty.The screen cut abruptly to black.

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?”