(Um, Sorry) I’ve Been Reincarnated! - 120 – Speaking Of Summer Event…

They said they came from out of nowhere. There were no signs of their arrival nor there were any loud sounds.

One day, Humanity woke up and was forced to accept their existence...along with the destruction they brought with them.

Ashton West, a orphan and a transmigrator from Earth. He woke up in this near-apocalyptic world without anyone else to rely on aside from himself.

Thankfully, he was blessed with a golden finger that came with his transmigration package!

Ashton: This world needs a Hero...sadly, I can't be bothered to be one.

Ashton: Surely there's someone out there who can fulfill that role. As for me? Well...

"Being 'Humanity's Strongest Backer' doesn't sound so bad."

***

Disclaimer:

1. Cover's not mine. Found it online and edited it. This is for temporary use. Hit me up if this is yours and want it to be taken down.

2. Don't expect perfection. It doesn't exist.

3. I'm not in a race with the other authors. I have my own update schedule. Don't worry, it's frequent enough.

All your support will be greatly appreciated.

Thanks for checking out my work!

This is actually the story of a teenager who, after the devastating and spartan-like training of his crazy cool/Gong teammate, turned into a super amazing point guard that could blow up the skies even though he may seem low-key on the surface.

Also, Nie Chuan is Reese’s first love.

Nie Chuan: I’ve decided to promote you to becoming my best friend!

Reese: If I can be your best friend, it just means that you have no friends.

Nie Chuan: Hey! How could you say that! Do you know what it means to be my best friend?!

Reese: I’m sleeping.

Nie Chuan: It means that when I get married, my bride may not necessarily be her, but my groomsman must be…

Reese: The groom must be me.

Nie Chuan: What– you want to snatch my bride away?! You’re too inhumane!

Reese: Sleep.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”

“Young man… if you could go back in time, what period would you like to be in?”