I Became the Cute One in the Troubleshooter Squad - Chapter 3: The Ragged Ghost (1)

I was the awakened on the path to become the strongest, but instead, I became the final boss of an Eroge.Pushed into the body of Eugene Hall who was but a petty villain that somehow spelled the end of the World, I had to live again in a world of demons and gods.Moreover, the main characters were all regressors who wanted me dead.Now I was stuck as a villain with heroes and villains, demons and gods all coming after my life. And even beyond them were the oncoming outer gods that wanted the world gone.And honestly? I didn't care.My path was the path to the strongest! Nothing else could come in my way!!

Zane Thaleward, born into a prestigious family known for their extraordinary magical abilities, struggles to meet the expectations placed upon him. Unlike his relatives, his magic is weak, limited to only the simplest of spells, making him the subject of mockery and ridicule.Despite the constant criticism, he remains determined to become stronger. One day, while searching the family’s library for a way to improve his magic, he stumbles upon a strange, ancient book. Little does he know, this discovery will change his destiny forever.

A world full of magic and wonders, where dragons stand for metals, sprites stand for farming, knights cultivate qi, mysterious wizards dwell. In this world, a man who had transmigrated into the body of a baron, follows the prompts of mysterious symbols to change his destiny.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”