She Chose to Be Strong After Her Rebirth and Won Everything Back - Chapter 262 - Storm

I am the most talented guardian of this era!

But no one knows, I still have a second template, the knife cuts the flesh, the intention cuts the soul!

You may have seen the meatless juggernaut, but you have never seen a full-time meat shield with an explosive attack!

- Description from novelbuddy

Everyone must have a few regrets in their lives, and for Mykel regret was publishing this novel on the internet. Because of this failed novel he wrote, made his career down the hill as an author. Thanks to this novel, he lost his passion and he lost everything that he had.

"I wish I can destroy this novel so that nobody will be able to see it or remember it anymore," Mykel said.

That was what he wished for, and for some reason, he went inside that novel of his and as himself in the story that didn't suppose to exist?

Mykel smirked and grinned as he looked at the system.

[You are the creator of this world, you will have the access to the command system. You are free to do anything as long as it is listed in the command system]
[Please enjoy and have fun]

"Heh, then I will turn this world upside down," Mykel said as he glared at the notification in front of him.

A world where dragons serve as mayors, elves work in sales, and orcs brew coffee.In a city full of enhanced humans and wandering wizards, I became a young girl with psychic powers.“To do something so terrible to a child… These people are despicable.”“Human experimentation related to psychic powers is an international crime, punishable by at least the death penalty. This is absolutely unacceptable.”“Don’t worry anymore. From now on, you’ve got nothing to fear. We’ll take care of everything for you, little sister!”It seems the protagonists have misunderstood something.

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.”