MTL - Cute Beast Store No. 138 - ~ Chapter 131

Listen here, because I've seen it with my very own eyes.William Oh was born on the hundredth floor of The Tower, to the greatest Climbers of the ancient world, steeped in the Tower's lethal miasma from the moment he drew breath, giving him strange and unnatural powers.They say he is an immortal being who circles the dreams of mortal men, resurfacing wherever the need is greatest. Those who disparage him will fall into despair, but if you're a Climber in a tight scrape, look to the sky and say a little prayer.Maybe he will appear?Odds are probably better if you pay for my drink.- Rumor overheard on a 1st Floor Tavern. Originator did not pay his tab.

Nobody knew at the beginning of “Heaven” that the game itself would be awakened and gain complete self awareness to forid paying for game credits. After 10 years of development, Heaven's game credit has become the only currency interchangeable between reality and virtual reality. Inside the room, a player raises a pistol and points it at his very own head. Previously, he led a comfortable life as the son of a rich couple. But now, he was in a state of misery and destitution because of Heaven. He travels 10 years back in time and returns to the point in time when Heaven was to begin in a week's time. Being reborn, what was Chu You going to decide this time... P. S. The storyline is toxic and the protagonist is hardly sane. He is consumed by vengeance and acts wantonly. For entertainment solely. Read at your own risk.

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.”

Beast Taming: I Can Evolve Indefinitely