The Max Level Hero Has Returned! - Chapter 649. Visible but Intangible and Inaudible, Reachable but Unreachable

Yohan wakes up ten years in the past, back when he still lived with his uncle and hadn’t yet lost his parents’ massage parlour. With a strange book filled with wellness techniques in his hands, he decides to live differently this time—more aware, more purposeful, and maybe even more fulfilled.

Ling Xiao was secretly in love with a girl named Mo Qi; because of an accident, they both crossed into the ancient times.

Mo Qi who was preinstalled with the Mary Sue halo, in these ancient times, walked to the summit with a golden finger.

However, Ling Xiao continued to be exploited by Mo Qi.

After he no longer had any values to exploit, he soon became a pitiful cannon fodder.

The heavens decided to take pity on Ling Xiao.

And gave Ling Xiao an opportunity for rebirth.

After rebirth, he vowed that all his enemies would repay him with a debt of blood!

However, why have all these enemies of his, fallen into the mode of cutting their heads open?

“Hey, are you really that unremarkable person who used to follow behind Mo Qi?”

“So this dance was originally danced by you, sigh……”

“You are obviously a man, yet you move me so much.”

“Enough! Since you have taken the initiative to provoke me, then you must concentrate on me!”

Ling Xiao expressed: If you want to counterattack, then counterattack. As long as your golden finger is bigger than Mo Qi’s.

But how did Mo Qi’s Mary Sue halo end up in his body! He is still a straight man who likes beauties! He definitely, definitely doesn’t want to turn bent!

- Description from Novelupdates

Mochizuki Touya, a 15-year-old boy, who got zapped by a flash of lightning due to a freak accident caused by God, wakes up and finds himself face-to-face with God.

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.”