Heaven-Defying Rebel Sage - Chapter 8: The 9th Reincarnation Ends with a Pie in the Sky

Transmigrating to an anime mashup world, Yoshida Tenya thought that a relaxed and pleasant life awaited him! But then he met them...Takanashi Rikka: My evil king's true eye is the strongest!Yotsuya Miko: Yoshida-san, can you see them too?Yukinoshita Yukino: I like cats, but that doesn't mean I want to become a cat!Kato Megumi: Can Tenya-kun notice me?Alisa: милый (cute)Kuchiki Rukia: Tenya, you are very suitable to be a substitute shinigami!Tenya: I just want to get a treasure chest! Is that too much to ask for?[Ding!][Extracting SSS-Rank treasure chest: Conqueror's Haki][Extracting SSS-Rank treasure chest: Zanpakuto: Zangetsu][Extracting S-Rank treasure chest: Mangekyo Sharingan][Extracting S-Rank treasure chest: Ice-Make]

And so Arascus, God of Pride, waited. He waited for his defeat as the forces of Heaven & Hell combined descended upon him. He waited as they tried to kill him. He waited as they locked him away. He waited for a thousand years in that dark prison.

[Regression: 31 times][Possession: 17 times][Reincarnation: 7 times]Kang Hanbit endured 55 cycles of regression and reincarnation, dragged to the brink by the Goddess.Just before his 56th journey, he gets sent back to reality, only to find his life intertwined with a game called the “Record Project.”But wait—this game’s world is identical to the other world?The 56th journey, which had yet to begin, now continues in the form of 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.”