A Girl Who Was Told 'You Have No Talent' Turned Out To Be A Talented Monster - Chapter 57.4

[Warning: Mature content, lemons, comedy, face-slapping, and a smart protagonist!]“So many beautiful girls!”After an unfortunate science experiment gone wrong, 25-year-old virgin Ren Kisaragi, wakes up in a strange new world.A world where curses manifest as eldritch horrors, bringing destruction with every breath.A world where female weavers command the very laws of reality and bend the elements to their will, while male warriors, blessed with monstrous strength, can shatter mountains with a single blow.It doesn’t take long before he realizes he has reincarnated into “Mystic Chronicles”, a fantasy novel he once read and dropped out of boredom.However, he isn't the protagonist or even a side character, he’s just a nameless extra, a mere background figure destined to fade into obscurity.But there’s one problem. He’s somehow enrolled at Imperial Academy, the most prestigious weaver academy in the kingdom… which is supposed to be an all-girls school!And as the only male weaver in an entire academy of talented (and terrifying) female weavers, his existence alone is enough to shatter the balance of the world.With a suspiciously broken cheat, an entire school of powerful and competitive girls watching his every move, and curses lurking in the shadows, Ren must navigate this chaotic new life before he gets caught up in a story that was never meant to include him.But maybe—just maybe—he can turn this anomaly into an advantage. And if fate allows, fulfill his lifelong dream of being surrounded by beautiful, ambitious women while he's at it.Can he survive this world where he's the ultimate anomaly?

I failed and will challenge again.

Chu Guang, who had traveled to the post-apocalyptic world, discovered that he had unlocked a shelter system and was able to summon creatures named “player” from the previous world.

From that day on, the whole post-apocalyptic world became like a game.

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.”