Death… And Me - Chapter 2566 The Pieces

The worst student of Westroad Academy. The disgrace of the Blake House. A new soul enters the body of Frey Blake, who couldn’t overcome his miserable life and chose death instead. “What’s with this body? I’ll have to work on tuning it from scratch.” The Great Mage Lucas Traumen, with the body of Frey Blake, gains a chance at revenge!

Seria, a social outcast, has changed.
Seria Stern, the wicked woman who made everyone tremble with fear, was now calm.

In fact, she wasn’t just changed, she was a completely different person.

The moment she realized that she had possessed the body of the villain Seria, in a romance novel, she had a hunch about the future and decided to live low.

She would avoid kidnapping and harassing the original heroine, hence preventing her death by decapitation at the hands of Kalis, the second male lead.

In order to avoid that, she had to fix her bad relationship with Kalis and even healed his injured arm.

Thanks to that she got engaged with him, so it’s all worked out.
Finally, the original heroine returned, and her husband, Lesche, should be on good terms with her now.

“I’ve been waiting to escort her, so…”

Lesche asked, resolutely cutting off Kalis’ words.

“Miss Seria, it would be better for you to choose. With whom would you want to go with?”

Something was strange.
The original, wasn’t it perfectly fine?

MC has the power of resurrection. He first resurrect Pirate King then WhiteBeard, Rock , Golden Lion and finally complete his crew.MC is mostly op. Read as Mc sail in the world of One Piece with the re-alive Characters.

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.”