MTL - Supreme Uprising - Chapter 1243 Time and space nine turn dragon tree self-present

Rowan was just a broke college dropout—until he was summoned to another world.Dragged into the war-torn realm of Laronia, Rowan stands beside four other chosen heroes, each blessed by prophecy… except him.While the others awaken to legendary powers and divine roles, Rowan receives a blank grimoire. No magic. No title. No future.Cast aside and marked a failure, he prepares for death—until the silence inside his grimoire begins to speak.The gods made a mistake. And this world is not ready for what lies beneath the Wordless Mage.

as a gamer, who knew the powers will be diversified in the world of Pirates and Navys?this is a story of a person who is thrown into the beautiful, but dangerous and horrendous world of One Piece, as the Holder of the System with the Job of a Gamer.

Good news: You’ve transmigrated as a born protagonist , your confidants have exceptional talents, boasting abilities like Heart Voice, Simulator, Rebirth... and many other top-tier skills. What you only need to do is to wait for one of them to grow up, then you will be invincible to ascend. Bad news: They’re all yandere !!! Under the gaze of yandere, Xu Yuan shivered in fear. It was not until he was about to be attacked with a firewood cleaver. “If that’s the case, then I’m dropping the act—I am none other than the Great Love Immortal Venerable!”

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.”