MTL - General, You’ve Lost Your Inhibitor! - Chapter 17 cheers to friendship

“Take me in, I’ll do anything you want me to!”

In her previous life, Lu Man is sent to prison after being framed by her step-sister and an asshole. After being released from prison, the only thing that greets her is her mother’s tombstone. Seeing the as*hole and bit*h getting happily along together like one big family with her birth father and step-mother, she sets out to die together with the as*hole and her step-sister in fiery flames.

The moment she opens her eyes again, she finds herself back on the very day she was framed. Resolutely jumping out the window and climbing next door, she seeks refuge from the man occupying the room there. But who would have guessed that the man is the brilliant hunk she has always admired from afar in her past life?

She vows to rub her eyes clean and be more discerning of people. She wants to make everyone who owed her in the past to pay her back!

“Young Master Han, can you let me hug your other arm too?”
“Actually, I have one more, do you want it?”
“…”

- Description from Novelupdates

His muscles screamed, his body begged for rest, his mind ordered him to stop. But Bakugo couldn't. Not while Izuku hadn't arrived. So, he pushed forward. Every explosion, every strike, every movement was pure determination, a reflection of his unwavering will to win.For a moment, he felt beyond himself. Fast. Precise. Almost invincible.And then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed. The battlefield vanished, and the pain ceased.It was in that moment that Katsuki Bakugo understood... he had died.Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, images or songs featured in this fic. Additionally, I do not claim ownership of any products or properties mentioned in this novel. This work is entirely fanfic.

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.”

The world of Nyil, with its monsters, its knights and its mildly sociopathic gods. Come and see! A soul flees and a soul arrives, blessed by luck. Will she survive? Will she thrive? Will she become a calamity? After all, luck is such a fickle thing. ‍