I Transmigrated As A Prison Guard And Suppressed The Princess - Chapter 1490

Memories shape who we are—they define us, anchoring us to our pasts. They are like videos, playing endlessly in our minds.But everything changed one day when people began to relive their memories. However, it wasn’t the pleasant ones that resurfaced. Instead, they were forced to experience their worst moments—or even memories that weren’t their own.Those who managed to survive this haunting experience found themselves watched by strange creatures, and in turn, were granted their powers.As if the world weren’t already thrown into chaos, these same bizarre monsters began to manifest on Earth, threatening humanity with the very real prospect of extinction.Amidst this upheaval, a small, seemingly insignificant beast was born. But it quickly rose to power, only to be betrayed and killed in a cruel twist of fate. Or so it seemed—because somehow, the beast found itself reborn in the body of a human.

Liam Sera Banfield is a reincarnator.

“With your own strength, prove the worth of your species.”

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.”