Naruto: Escape From Konoha - Chapter 118: 114: Escape From Konoha (End)

It isn’t the strongest who survives. The one who survives is the strongest.”After being discharged from the military, Jin Seowoon did nothing but play games like a loser. One day, he was invited to the world of “Cloyd Survival,” which resembled a game he enjoyed.In that world were masters of martial arts, kings from other worlds, and notorious killers…It was a gathering of monsters that surpassed human imagination.Jin Seowoon had just one objective—to survive and become one of the top ten.Here lies a tale of survival with Jin Seowoon’s life at stake.

A normal high school boy with nothing much happening in his life except for...life. Every new day was the same as the one before but he doesn't really care much about it. He thought of himself as a normal high school-going boy with no clear future. Lazy, sarcastic, but kind of intelligent, he was living a normal life.Though fate had different plans for him as he met a girl who he did and did not know. The school princess was the first thing he saw when he woke up in his bed caressing his head. To any other boy in his situation, it would be pure bliss but he was worried.Why?Since she was in his house which he had locked before going to sleep. Little did he know that the girl was more than what she showed and was about to turn his entire life upside down. How will he tackle this situation? No one knows that.

Prince Alexander Herald von Triesenberg was the fourth prince of the Empire of Triesenberg who was banished from the Empire of Triesenberg for the crime that he didn’t commit.On their way to the island where he would be banished, a powerful storm swept through and sank the ship. Alexander drowned and at the moment, he thought he died from drowning.However, when he opened his eyes, he found himself lying on the shore of a sandy beach and a floating interface before his eyes.

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.”