MTL - I Thought I Was Straight - Chapter 147 Daoist come to accept me 1(1)

The protagonist, having degenerated into a “loser” after being unable to find employment, gets caught up in someone else’s attempt to commit suicide-by-train and ends up traveling to another world. The numerous cheat powers he demands from God are all granted to him. But contrary to expectations, these powers bring about disastrous consequences for the protagonist.

Having reincarnated into another world, the optimistic protagonist (Yuuri) starts his(her) heart-warming training days with his(her) teacher.

Betrayed by her boyfriend in the most humiliating way, She seeks solace in a night bar that leads to an unexpected turn—she finds herself pregnant with quadruplets, and the father is a gigolo!She thought it was merely a fleeting encounter, she returns home only to discover he's transformed into the city's most influential CEO.Struggling as a single mother, she's caught off guard when fate brings them together again. He recognizes her, and traps her...

Damien was reincarnated as the villain in a shelved novel. He find himself on a wedding scene where the protagonist was destined to rob the marriage.He smirked while looking at the proud protagonist and arrogant heroine.Aren't you proud and arrogant? Let you know the consequences of offending the Villain!Destroy the background behind you and capture your family!Don't you love her? Aren't you the son of fortune? Kneel Down!!Now the choice is yours! Do you choose your family or the heroine?“Hehehe didn't the heavenly dao want to suppress and kill me? Let's see how I will play with your chosen 'son and daughters' to death! When the auspicious time will come, I will kill you too!!!”

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.”