The Lucky Bride Is Pretty And Delicate - Chapter 951 - -Side Story, Comprehension 52

Time had run out. Azrael hadn't been chosen by the system, leaving him Forsaken with no hope for a prosperous life.But he wasn’t going to let it end like this. Even if it meant trading his life for a single chance, he would take it. It was either a life of greatness, one where he would reach the very top… or a short one, dying here, unmourned and forgotten by a cursed world that never cared he existed.“An early end in pursuit of greatness sounds better than a slightly longer one filled with stagnation and regret.”In the end, all the things he had done hadn’t been for naught. The sacrifices up until now had been worth it.[Inborn Trait activated][System devoured][Inborn Trait is fusing with the system][Devouring System has been granted]To his surprise, however, his system proved to be far more extraordinary than the others, granting him a unique path that only he could follow.With that realization, one thing became certain: no matter what monster or human stood in his way, he would reach the very top of the hierarchy, regardless of the cost.

Rinkai was an ordinary orphan with nothing but dreams of a brighter future. Honest and hardworking, he believed that effort would one day change his fate. But a tragic accident shattered everything.When he opened his eyes, he was no longer in the world he knew. Instead, he found himself in a realm where strength was absolute, and the weak had no place. Just as despair crept in, a mysterious voice echoed in his mind—[Ding! The Lucky spin System has been activated!]With a system that could grant him anything through sheer luck, Rinkai’s journey in this unpredictable world was about to begin.

Our MC dies from an accidental electrocution and ends up inhabiting the body of a young prince in another world, his new profession being the Necromancer he chose in the game he was playing before his untimely demise. However, things are not what they seem – including his own Necromancy skills!

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.”