Consuming Earths, Devouring Skies - Chapter 407 I Am Me

Thanks to the Goddess, he was reincarnated into nobility!　That should have been great―― but the skill he got, 【Toxin Decomposition EX】 was simply too plain, and he was made fun of everyday at home……

When the night came, there was a twittering sound in his ears, and the monster in the shadows began to move restlessly. Jason’s hungry stomach began to roar, and he couldn’t help swallow his saliva. Hunger was the best spur.

“Rishe Ilmgard Wertsner! I’m breaking off my engagement with you!” “Okay, I understand.” “Huh.” The Duke’s daughter, Rishe left the evening party without delay. In fact, for Rishe, this engagement has been terminated for the seventh time. That’s where her new life starts, after having enjoyed the way of life of a pharmacist and a dressed up knight, she lost her life at the age of 20 and has gone back to the scene where her engagement was broken off. Normally, this could have broken Rishe’s heart, but her mentality became strong. Her past six lives have been busy and fulfilling, she wants to live longer this time around. If possible, she wants to live a life of leisure and squander money… To commence her 7th life, Rishe has set up such a diagonal goal. However, in this life, she will be married to the Crown Prince of a militant nation, who killed her in her past life. …It’s probably better. It doesn’t matter if it’s a former rival country. In her seventh lifetime, she’ll enjoy loafing off at a castle!! Against all her determination, she inadvertently demonstrated the skills she had cultivated in her past lives and garnered attention as a brilliant Crown Princess.

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.”