MTL - You Can’t Be Fierce Towards Me! - Chapter 92

The Hero Age— circa 3113 ad. An age where humans have developed superpowers such as superspeed, superstrength, and every cliche superhero power there is. But not everyone awakened superhero powers.

A tad 1% of the population were unawakened and Satoshi is one of them... or so he thought.

It all started when he wished for a System-like ability in front of a retro computer, which in turn granted it the power of the System. What Satoshi didn't know is that he holds the power to transform/evolve animals and inanimate objects.

How will Satoshi's life evolve after this newfound power? Will he finally be the very best like no one ever was?

Traveling through American Comics, Su Ming changes from an ordinary person to a world-famous mercenary and assassin.Just when he tries to get some information of this world, he encounters another Deathstroke.

In the kingdom of Veridian, Prince Lucien Damon is known for his charm and charisma. But his kingdom is facing economic ruin, and his father, the king, in an effort to alleviate the economic strain on his kingdom has arranged a marriage between Lucian and Prince Alexander Silver of the neighboring kingdom of Avaloria.In the kingdom of Veridian, Prince Lucien Damon is known for his charm and charisma. But his kingdom is facing economic ruin, and his father, the king, in an effort to alleviate the economic strain on his kingdom has arranged a marriage between Lucian and Prince Alexander Silver of the neighboring kingdom of Avaloria.

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.”