MTL - Healing Basketball - Chapter 26 so-called genius

So here's the pitch: I got reincarnated with Mangekyo Sharingan.Sounds overpowered, right? Instant win button?Except I can barely keep it active for thirty seconds without feeling like my brain's being microwaved. My chakra reserves are pathetic. My combat experience is zero. And the system that gave me these powers took one look at my situation and said “good luck” before fucking off into hibernation.Oh, and the Hero Killer—the guy who murders heroes for not being “worthy”—just decided my mom wasn't good enough. She'll never walk again.I know when he'll strike next. I know where. I've got exactly four weeks to train.Four weeks to go from “can't throw a punch without tripping” to “can survive a fight with a serial killer.”The smart move? Stay out of it. Let the pro heroes handle it.But I'm fifteen, angry, and apparently making life decisions with the wisdom of a shounen protagonist.At least I'm in General Studies. Low expectations.What does being a hero have to do with revenge anyway?

For a certain LOL competition, a certain online streamer famous for pissing people off was currently explaining and broadcasting it at the same time.

Streamer: This support, so tr*sh.

Streamer: If that jungler was my teammate, I would already be idling at the fountain and playing piano for him by now.

Streamer: I recommend that this player go back and properly practice how to last hit.

Audience: What bullshit! If you’re any better, then you do it!

Streamer: Daddy I really can do it.

Audience: Okokok. If you can do it then I’ll chop off my head so you can kick it.

A few months later, LOL’s veteran pro team TTC announced a new mid laner, Soft. A boy with flashy blue hair appeared in front of the audience and played Zed to utter perfection, killing everyone he saw, causing all the female fans to begin toeing the line of infidelity.

During the MVP interview after the match, everyone held their breath and eagerly watched this newcomer.

Only to see the boy accept the microphone, smile and ask, “That water friend with the StarTV user ID ‘Suburb King 101,’ my team’s address is on the official website, when will you mail your head over?”

After a certain regular season match finished, the staff member went backstage to urge the team members to go onstage and conduct their interviews, only to see TTC’s new mid laner and jungler standing in the corner.

TTC’s number one ace · jungler daddy Road pressed their team’s new mid laner Soft against the wall. He lowered his eyes and asked lowly, “At the interview, do you know what you did?”

That quick-tempered mid laner, who had solidified his image as a troll in the audience’s eyes the very first time he went on stage, turned completely red. “I know. I won’t curse at anyone… I definitely won’t curse at anyone.”

I returned after 10 years.

Can't a man maintain his dignity while preparing for the end of the world? Is that too much to ask?

The Tower was all I knew... all any of us knew, and just like that, it was gone. Monsters the likes of which I'd never seen ravaged the land of my ancestors. They burst through the outer walls and stormed the city. No one could have been ready for that. But now... Now I have a second chance.

After the collapse of the known world, I woke up to find myself on the First Floor of the Tower. I was young and healthy, 18 again, and sitting in the same classroom that marked the worst days of my life. Confused and excited, I accepted this gift, deciding to use my vast knowledge of the future to climb the Tower in preparation for the end of the world.

Maybe I'll help some folks along the way? Who knows. Survival comes first.

The clock is ticking, and I'm left with only a century to build a Deck powerful enough to survive the end. Things to do... What's first? I need Essence, and I need power. I'll have to climb the Tower to acquire both of these. Some of the zealots will try to stop me, need to look out for those. What if-

“Hey, kid! Hand over the pouch or-”

Stab

Sorry, where was I? Ah... there's a spot of blood on my suit. What a lousy morning.

In this world of blood and fantasy, century-old Rowan Wilder has to not only survive, but thrive as he powers his way to the top of the Tower. The Demonic Plague that has twisted the creatures on the upper Floors is the least of his worries. Cane in hand and Summons by his side, he'll have to tear his way through the monsters, as well as the humans who want to stop his ascent. Of course, he can maintain a sense of decorum while he faces these trials, right?