Dysfunctional - An Assassin's Guide to Reincarnating in Another World - Chapter 357 - 356 - The Other Races Attack(Part 13)

At the beginning of the 21st century, twelve reincarnations shattered the void and returned to their hometown.

They preach the world and reopen the space of reincarnation.

Then……

“The Republic of East Asia announced that it will fully implement a five-year spell casting and twelve-year simulation mage training policy.”

“The Republic of East Asia has announced a new change in the marriage law, making it legal to marry someone you call upon after meeting the adulthood conditions of your respective race.”

“The Republic of East Asia announced that the East China Military Region No. 1 Mobile Armor Brigade was established, and the special humanoid mecha “Gundam” officially joined the campaign.”

“Congratulations from the United Kingdom on this, the upper hero Arturia Pendragon will visit Shanghai next month”

“In the far east of Japan, the ignition of the wave engine failed, or seek energy assistance from the East Asian Republic.”

“Space cracks have been discovered in the Chernobyl region, alien creatures have ravaged the Chernobyl region, and the Russian Defense Forces have entered the battle.”

Four years after twelve reincarnators changed the world, Li Ping entered his own battlefield for the first time.

PS: Although the introduction is like this… but in fact it is written about two thorns + machine battle + movie + mythical stew…

- Description from novelbuddy

After dying, I woke up as a weak goblin.

To survive, I have to destroy, consume, and evolve off of other monsters.

From the ugly guy to the king who rules everything!

Second novel by Author before EER

Aizel has been depressed since he was a young man. From being tormented in school to being treated as an outcast solely because he is an antisocial person, the only things that kept him going were novels, manga, piano, and sword practice.He never anticipated being transferred to another world while drunk by the side of a lake under the moon. The world with mana is filled with superpowers, magic, and monsters, and he is unsure whether he is dreaming or not.Only to discover later that he possesses a power that may be called the most deadliest thing he could have ever imagined, but with limitations and drawbacks...“All of the kingdoms, magic, and everything about Xelgar fascinate me. But what Alora said makes me very curious.”“I knew I could easily use sword skills, fire skills, and techniques because I had seen and read so many anime and novels. I still can't believe that there is now a unique power as well.”“Is it true that I possess the power of imagination, as Alora claims? Isn't that a little overpowering? However, I was still unable to use some techniques and skills in the fights. The power has a disadvantage and a limitation.”“Is that because of my cracked core? If I can somehow recover it, will I be able to do anything just by imagining?”

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.”