My Soul card is a Reaper - Chapter 498 Raya, The Dracolich Arcana Spirit

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.”

Science and magic exist side by side in this world.

This is the peak of the science side with a curriculum for espers, Academy City. In this city where 80% of the population are students, the season has finally come when all residents are excited and fidgety!

It’s Christmas Eve.

Amidst the city showing a cheerful hustle and bustle, ordinary boy who can’t keep up with school, Kamijou Touma, also doesn’t intend to miss this event! He was hard at work in his supplementary lessons…

A backward glance from the default misfortune-prone bastard, the silver-haired sister freeloading in his dormitory, Index, in the heart pounding scene different from the usual, activates a new gluton skill!? While Kamijou tries to desperately stop that, Misaka Mikoto taken in by the Christmas Eve atmosphere appears before him.

In front of others, he is a cold and callous President of an empire. Young, wealthy and handsome, he is also the Prince Charming in every woman’s heart.

Only Chi Enen knows how temperamental, domineering and possessive he is!

Five years ago, Chi Enen left him and disappeared without a trace. Now, she bumped into him coincidentally and he refuses to let her go.

After their reencounter, he bounds Chi Enen mercilessly to his side. If she is out of his sight for a moment, his paranoia will be triggered…

“I gave in to you in the past because I can’t bear not to. Now, I have already decided to do it my way. I don’t need your agreement.”

“Li Beijue, what do you want from me?”

“I just want you to fall in love with me!”

Chi Enen struggles to get out of his clutches and at the same time, fighting desperately to resist his charm.

Will he discover the truth of what happened five years ago?

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.”