Reincarnated With The Strongest System - Chapter 962: Buy One Take Three For Free

The King Of Assassins was a monster that reigned over the world of hitmen for long years. He was the absolute peak that no other being could reach. His name reached the ears of every powerhouse in the world and sent shivers through every human.

Yet, his legend came to an end suddenly when he died in unknown circumstances.

However, instead of disappearing forever, he was given another chance in another world by the goddess of reincarnation. It was the world of an old book that he read back in the time. A world where everything was possible, where humans could reach new heights that were impossible in his old life.

But, this place didn't seem to be normal as it carried a huge surprise that will make his journey seem all the more interesting.

The Goddess of reincarnation wasn't as holy as anyone would think. She was nothing but a twisted being who found a toy to play with. The goddess manipulated the world that he was going to and changed all the heroines into these twisted beings that fit her character. They were all now harboring this unhealthy obsession toward him and trying with all their powers to take him away for themselves.

BLURB> He was reborn by mistake. Raised with purpose. Loved by a god. Worshipped by monsters. And the galaxy doesn’t stand a fucking chance.Irvine’s soul took one wrong turn through the wheel of karma and woke up in a body grown by an intergalactic hivemind goddess with boundary issues and galaxy-sized ambition. Now he’s the golden child of a psychic swarm that feeds on control and burns whole worlds for affection.With Crystal at the helm, warriors like Kimchi, relic-weapons like Kiya, and a council of psionic horrors eager to call him king, Irvine must choose what kind of god he wants to be.Because when a hivemind learns to love......it doesn’t know when to stop.The universe will kneel—or get devoured trying.SYNOPSISIrvine didn’t ask to be reincarnated, but the cosmos had other plans. And it didn’t hand him a cheat code or a clean slate—just one random boon, selected by an uncaring divine roulette wheel.Good karma? Bad karma? Balanced as all fuck.Now he's reborn in the body of a psionically tuned alien hybrid, raised from psychic infancy by Crystal, the hivemind queen of a race so advanced they’ve abandoned individuality for shared omniscience. All except her baby boy.Irvine is the singularity inside the swarm, the first soul allowed to think, dream, and desire independently. Trained by warriors like Kimchi, advised by bio-symbiotes like Kiya, loved ferociously by hive sisters like Diane, and shadowed by powers ancient and unnamed, Irvine is both weapon and wielder, saint and sacrifice.But empires don’t run on hugs and handjobs. As Crystal expands her dominion—across star systems and sentient nebulae—Irvine must lead the charge through blood, fire, and psionic flame.His soul is still human. His body? Engineered for extinction. His heart? Not entirely his anymore.

The world was once at war with 10 alternate worlds. This was known as the Concept War and our world won 60 years ago. All of this was concealed so no normal people are aware of this fact in the current time.

After the death of his grandfather, the high-school student Sayama Mikoto is suddenly summoned by the giant corporation IAI. He learns this world is headed for destruction due to the acceleration of the Minus Concepts. To prevent this, negotiations must be undertaken with the survivors of the other parallel worlds so their 10 concepts can be released.

And so Sayama is caught up in the final battle to clean up after the Concept War which left behind so much enmity.

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.”