Boiling Beast Bloodline - Chapter 103 - 11 Traditional_3

An editor at the prime of her life—and with maybe just a little too much free time—finds herself waking up in one of her favorite RPGs with no clue as to what's going on or how to get back home.This might be the part where others rejoice over getting whisked away to a world of wizards and magic, but she certainly doesn't think it's anything to celebrate about.After all, she woke up in the body of a small-time villain with some severe personality issues.

I am Stephen, assistant to Vegapunk. After transmigrated to the One Piece world and failing in the attempt to take down Imu in collaboration with the Revolutionary Army, I unexpectedly found myself transmigrated again, this time to the Pokémon world.Although my body has become smaller, my mind remains as sharp as ever. My current identity is:The Chief Pokémon Professor of the Pokémon LeagueA mind 500 years ahead of its timeExecutive Vice-Leader of Team RocketThe second Master-level Trainer after Professor RowanThe benefactor recognized by Rayquaza as its successorHonorary Chairman of the Alola LeagueSupreme Commander of Dark Pokémon!

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.”

Take a look at the cover. Now take a look at the synopsis. Now take a look at the cover once again. Did you manage to see anything else outside of two big plots on it already? Then let me tell you this - if I'm willing to use this great cover for this novel, then surely as heck I am confident in the first chapter making you read more!