How To Repair Items With An Anvil In Minecraft?

It was the tenth year of the Mechanical Civilization. My girlfriend, who always spoiled her brother to an unreasonable extent, orchestrated my death. Luckily, I was reborn seven days before the arrival of the machines. I bought a heavy-duty truck and evolved the strongest mecha. Close-combat mecha, long-range mecha, weapons, shields, funnels, modules… This time, I wanted the best of everything. My name is Victor Wild. Born to be a victor, born to be wild.

Nikolas Kowalski was a Lycan rogue that rose from the ashes of his past to become the most powerful man of his era. Although he had turned his life around, his thirst for revenge was beyond his control, and he sort to get even with the people that burned, destroyed his family and made them into rogues. He sorts to seek revenge on the alpha that defeated his father and exiled his mother while pregnant with him. Luckily he did not go feral because he was born packless, but his mother was able to hold on to her sanity long enough to raise him and tell him her version of the truth. Now that he has risen with so much hate, he seeks to destroy the man and people behind his family’s demise by taking his territory, his daughter, Aliana, and making her and the people suffer. Although Nikolas seeks revenge and retribution through Aliana, his heart and wolf seek otherwise; enthralled by her personality, he falls deeper than he could ever imagine.

I was laid off. Having reached middle age and lacking any special skills, I could only work as a warehouse manager in a private company. On the first day of work, I saw a large, dusty object in the corner. An imported precision instrument worth four million dollars sat there as scrap metal. My new colleague scoffed. "Stop looking. The boss spent a fortune on it. Even ten experts couldn't handle it. It's just a decoration." I walked up and touched the familiar body of the machine. "I can fix this." The entire workshop fell silent. My boss came upon hearing the news. He looked at me with contempt. "If you can fix it, I'll give you half of my shares. If not, you'll pay with your life."

After a plane crash, I found myself on a deserted island. I had no knowledge of wilderness survival, nor did I have a Swiss Army knife. I started with nothing but my bare hands and a delicate woman by my side. The harsh nature, the despicable survivors, the savage primitive tribes, they all want me die? Be it nature, witchcraft, or elves, watch how I rebuild a civilization on this deserted island.

One day, billions woke up on an endless highway. One vehicle each. One life each. No exits. Others got scooters, bicycles, or tractors. Jake Maddox got a beat-up motorhome. Level-one zombies have 20 strength. Humans have 5. And Cthulhu monsters lurk in the mist. This isn't a game—it's a slaughter. But Jake has a cheat: Gold Mods. He glances at his status screen and smirks. "Not enough stats? Gold mods to the rescue." [Fuel Tank] + [Infinite] = unlimited fuel. Floor it and leave everyone choking on dust. [Tires] + [Indestructible] = unbreakable, unshakable, unstoppable. No attack gets through. [Motorhome] + [Spatial Folding] = a mobile fortress that fits it all — storage, pool, villa, armory, and more. [Windows] + [One-Way Transparent] = armored steel to the outside, panoramic views from within. Total safety, zero claustrophobia. While others shiver and barter their souls for half a bottle of gas, Jake sits in his climate-controlled motorhome, eating a steaming-hot chicken pie, watching a Cthulhu boss try to break in. His calm response? "That tentacle would taste pretty good grilled." … From Lv.1 Beater Motorhome to Lv.100 Ark of the Old Ages—as long as Jake can imagine it, no mod is off the table. Gold mods. Show me your limits.

At a highway service area, the man parked in the next space points under his van and shouts that it's leaking fuel and is about to explode. I am a veteran auto mechanic with ten years of experience. Without hesitation, I slide under the vehicle and, within ten seconds, clamp off the fuel line. The moment I crawl back out, I catch the smell of mineral water. The owner, Billy Dickson, immediately pulls out his phone and starts a livestream while several of his accomplices pin me against the hood. "Watch this, everyone! We set the perfect trap and caught a gang of catalytic converter thieves! See how smoothly he got under the chassis? He's obviously a repeat offender. Every missing part at this service area has to be his doing!" Covered in dirt and grease, I try to explain to the crowd that I only cut the line because I thought the vehicle was about to catch fire and endanger everyone nearby. Billy spits a thick wad of phlegm right onto my shoe. "Who asked you to stick your nose into my business? You crawled under my van because you wanted to steal parts! Either you pay for a brand-new vehicle today, or I'll hand you over to the police and make sure you rot in prison!" Not wanting to delay getting my wife, who's about to go into labor, to the hospital, I grit my teeth and transfer them 20,000 dollars to settle the matter privately. Three days later, on a long downhill stretch of a winding mountain road, Billy's van completely loses its brakes. Black smoke pours from the tires. He recognizes my car and frantically blares the horn. Rolling down his window, he begs me to tell him how to survive. I simply press down on the accelerator and widen the distance between us, my face completely expressionless. "Back for another livestream to chase views? Give me a break. To prove I'm not a car thief, I already threw my wrenches into the river. You'll have to figure out for yourself how to jump out of the van."