MTL - Crossing the Happy Daughter - Chapter 1660 finale forty

The end of all worlds approaches.

The Demon King Order harvests lives from all manners of living beings.

Within this darkness full of despair,
A single person escaped from space-time, returned to before the world collapsed, determined to change the fate of the past.

But as time pass, he gradually finds out that the Apocalypse isn’t quite as simple as he thinks…

“Now that I’m back, I won’t allow my loved ones to die again!”

The Shadow Labyrinth – the most catastrophic existence humanity has faced in history.

Desir Arman is one of the six remaining survivors of mankind.

The six attempted to clear the final level of the labyrinth but ultimately failed, and the world came to an end.

However – when Desir thought he would meet his demise, what is revealed before him is the world… thirteen years ago?!

Desir is returned to the past, back to the time when he enrolled at the nation’s finest magic academy – Havrion. He is reunited with his precious friends, and is prepared to change the past to save the world and his loved ones…!

Three years remaining before the emergence of the Shadow World!

Change the past and gather powerful comrades to save mankind!

I turned my assassin into my maid with the power of money! Money is all-powerful!

It was a world full of swords and magic; Lawrend was the son of the wealthiest merchant in town. Since the age of 7, he had been having dreams. A dream about a past life in a modern civilization where monsters are nonexistent, and humans dominate the world. Lawrend saw Iron birds, Magical bricks that display moving paintings, Thunder wielding, and many more.

There was a scene in one of the dreams that made Lawrend’s heart beat fast. A row of a dozen maids bowing in front of him. Each dressed in a french maid outfit.

Something awakened inside Lawrend when he had that dream. A fervent desire to have his very own Maid Harem!

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.”