Love Comes After Simulation - Chapter 39

A person from our world is transported into the universe of the Avatar animated series. The protagonist's adventures begin in the Spirit World, in a form familiar to this world.“So this is the afterlife. It's not what I imagined. Strangely, my memory remains, but it feels one-sided—all the information is impersonal. No name, no loved ones, as if they never existed. I remember being a middle-aged man when, for some unknown reason, I ended up here. My entire life flashed before my eyes, but the emotions I once felt are gone...”Покорение стихий by EvopalanTranslated with LLMNote: when translated terms like magic / mage / magician were used instead of bending / bender / and chiI'm going through fixing the issueIf you want to support me and get exclusive transitions check out my patreon.com/PHINJO just getting started more to come.Planning on making creating an audio series for the fanfic.

Four years ago, the first-ever Armageddon Class Anima appeared on Earth, destroying everything that it touched and threatening the lives of the entire world's population! But along with it came Superhumans that had the blessing of mana. They rose up to fight against the Armageddon, and leading them was the strongest Superhuman, KING.After two days and three nights of nonstop battle, KING gave his life to stop the Armageddon and give the Superhumans a fighting chance against the invading Anima, and everyone in the world remembers his good deeds and sacrifice!...Mark was just an average Superhuman living in City A. His daily routine was skipping classes and hanging out with his only two friends while hunting for Anima in secret whenever he could. But this easy life was not going to last for long as the hidden power he sacrificed a long time ago began to awaken once more![Initializing Superhuman System...][Recognizing Host... Host Recognized.][Parsing Constitution. Host Fully Healed. No Traces Of Residual Damage.]“Hello once again, Mark Vanitas. Has it already been four years?”

“Look at him,” someone snickered from a few rows over. “Smells like he sleeps in a dumpster.”“Probably does,” another voice added, louder this time. Nox just stared at his textbook, the words blurring. He had heard it all before.Then, Mark, one of the main reasons his life was a living hell, swaggered past his desk. Mark always had a smirk on his face. “Oops,” he said, not even trying to sound accidental, as a full cup of bright orange juice tipped over, splashing all down the front of Nox's already ruined shirt. The cold liquid soaked through instantly. Laughter erupted around the room. It was loud, clear, and mocking. Nox slowly looked up. His eyes landed on Ms. Joy, who was watching the whole thing. She had seen Mark deliberately pour the juice on him. He raised his hand, a small, tired gesture. “Ms. Joy,” he said, his voice flat. “He just poured juice on me. Are you just going to ignore it? Again?.” Ms. Joy looked at him, then at Mark, who was now theatrically wiping his hands. A small smile played on her lips. Then she chuckled. Just a little airy laugh.“Oh, Nox, don't be so dramatic. Boys will be boys, right Mark?” Mark puffed out his chest. “Yeah, Ms. Joy. He's just sensitive.” The class laughed even harder at that. Ms. Joy joined in, her laughter ringing out with theirs. Hearing them all, hearing her laugh, something in him finally snapped. It wasn't a loud break, more like a quiet, final click. He realized it then, with a cold, hard clarity. No one was coming to save him. No teachers, no police, no parents he never had. No one cared. If he wanted this to stop, he would have to be the one to stop it. He was the only one who could.His face remained blank, but his mind was suddenly very clear. He reached down slowly, his hand going into his worn-out school bag. The laughter died down a little as a few students noticed his deliberate movement, a strange stillness about him. He pulled out a gun.The classroom went silent. Utterly, completely silent. Mark's smirk vanished, replaced by wide, terrified eyes. Even Ms. Joy stopped laughing, her face paling. “What… Nox, what are you doing?” she stammered, her voice suddenly shaky. He didn't answer. He looked around at their faces, one by one. Fear. He saw fear now. Good. He was ready. He was going to make them all pay. He was going to end it, all of it.Just as he was about to raise the gun properly, a bright blue screen appeared right in front of his face. It was translucent, and only he seemed to see it. [Congratulations! You have met the requirements!] [1st Player Chosen!] [You have won the System!]

So here's the pitch: I got reincarnated with Mangekyo Sharingan.Sounds overpowered, right? Instant win button?Except I can barely keep it active for thirty seconds without feeling like my brain's being microwaved. My chakra reserves are pathetic. My combat experience is zero. And the system that gave me these powers took one look at my situation and said “good luck” before fucking off into hibernation.Oh, and the Hero Killer—the guy who murders heroes for not being “worthy”—just decided my mom wasn't good enough. She'll never walk again.I know when he'll strike next. I know where. I've got exactly four weeks to train.Four weeks to go from “can't throw a punch without tripping” to “can survive a fight with a serial killer.”The smart move? Stay out of it. Let the pro heroes handle it.But I'm fifteen, angry, and apparently making life decisions with the wisdom of a shounen protagonist.At least I'm in General Studies. Low expectations.What does being a hero have to do with revenge anyway?