The ink had barely dried on the final chapter of the Imperial annals. Liam Valerian’s grand design—the secret societies, the publishing empires, and the calculated seduction of fox demons—had reached its absolute conclusion. As the darkness of that world began to dissolve into a void of static, a cold, mechanical voice echoed through the corridors of his fading consciousness:
[ System Notification: Protagonist’s Luck fully depleted. Transferring consciousness to the next narrative: 'The Hybrid’s Lament'. ]
When he opened his eyes, the scent of expensive incense was gone, replaced by the damp, metallic tang of an ancient forest and the suffocating odor of wet fur and ozone. He was no longer a silver-leaf officer in a silk-draped capital; he was Ventress Wilson, the Alpha of the Moon Wolf
