MTL - People Are In Konoha, You Call This a Ninja Tool - Chapter 451

Sophia was adopted when she was a kid, a dream come true for orphans. However Her life was anything but happy, her fiance whom she harbored intense love for 10 years cruelly exploited her and used her as a prawn to lure a deranged murderer targeting his lover.It is a horrible thing for your loved one to betray you, especially in a tragic manner. It seemed she was spurred by the complete despair over having nothing and no one to live for. Therefore, she surrendered without a fight. However, after her death.One would not expect a woman like Sophia, someone small as a caterpillar or even a dung beetle to be reborn, But here she is—perhaps she might have saved a kingdom in another life, or maybe God pitied her. She finds herself reincarnated as a timid and obedient wife of a billionaire.Sophia decides she wants revenge that could ruin her fiance and lover's life.And the only way to do that was to get pregnant with her billionaire husband's child!Dexter Black was the illegitimate son of a wealthy family, their marriage was nothing but a benefit for the two families. He could choose anyone to be his bride but the moment he laid his eyes on her,he knew she was the one he wanted. Dexter knows that there is something mysterious going on around her. She got a mystifying background. But he doesn't care about who she was in the past and why they keep attacking her. All he can think of is loving her, cherishing her, locking her up so that she will never return to her past. Because he knows that he won't be able to live a moment away from her.Would their marriage be a romantic tale or utter disaster?~ Except~“Wait, let me get this straight,” she says, her voice rising.“You want me to get pregnant?”Alexander's face remains impassive. “They, yeah.”Sophia stares at him, searching for signs of a head injury or a hidden camera crew. Finding neither, she decides this must be his twisted form of play.“You're going crazy,” she announces, grabbing her things. “I'm leaving.”She's halfway to the door when his words stop her cold.“It's either you get pregnant, or they won't allow you to leave until you are,” Alexander says calmly.She pauses to process his words.

Western VRMMO【DEMONDAL】was known for its extremely harsh game system. To begin with, there were no levels. There were no skills. There were no guilds. There was no inventory. There were no convenient system messages or maps of any kind either. It was so needlessly realistic that it was already basically a VR life simulator.

As for anything game-like, it was basically limited to weapon masteries; a proficiency level that you got from using your weapon, as well as physical strength that increased as well. That was it.

It was a fantasy game so there was magic, but forming a contract with a spirit was extremely difficult, and only 1% of the playerbase were magicians.

In this VR game【DEMONDAL】that was ridiculously close to reality, the protagonist Kei who was a well known mounted archery expert, was one day sent to another world with his Russian【DEMONDAL】friend.

The game that was severe to begin with had turned into a reality, and the harshness increased again――

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.”

Death, Depression, Poverty, Love issues – all things that a 27-year no-name writer faces.