There's No Love In the Deathzone (BL) - Chapter 25 - 24. Where Intuition Flares

I was a blind massage therapist, and I had come to the big city to work with Aunt Wu and Wang Xiru, but they always thought I was completely blind, often doing embarrassing things in front of me, even making some inappropriate demands...One, a charming mature woman, the other, a cool and aloof lady, every night I was tormented by them, unable to sleep...

Mortimer Zhu is an extremely unfortunate high school student who accidentally enrolls into an academy of a dubious nature, where it is the norm to jump in front of moving trains, get dismembered during orientation, and crushed by vindictive bouncing classrooms. Can he stay alive or will he die from the rigors of school? Why have evil spirits suddenly acquired a taste for his flesh?

- Description from Novelupdates

Satou Shiki a Japan present-day university student suddenly one day he got attacked by a slasher when he open his eyes he was already transferred to another world’s labyrinth city. In that another world he who was awakened to do a lot of “things”.

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.”