MTL - Diary of a Sturdy Immortal - Chapter 867 still want to swallow

[You have been killed by the Hero of Light.]

[You have died.]

I had died at the hands of the main character in the novel I had read before.

But I got another chance. I regressed and returned to the time when I first entered this novel world.

Once again, I live in this novel world as an extra character.

Since I have experience and knowledge, especially my World System which had upgraded, I'll do what I want to do.

I will become stronger than the main character.

The Celestial Express is a train that goes from one galaxy to the next, picking up passengers along the way.Its Navigator, the one who drives it through the stars, is a god who can grant those passengers wishes.Jax arrives on the Celestial Express with no memories but a single wish—to save someone. After learning what the Navigator is capable of, he decides to go find him.To find the Navigator, he must go through TEN different Carriages, all of which contain a world of their own.And, he must do it with a restriction called Single Spell Sorcerer.

I thought I had seen bad endings before—but nothing prepared me for the garbage conclusion of The Hero’s Path.Years of investment, countless struggles, and for what? The protagonist failed. The villain won. Everyone else? Dead. Furious, I sent a message to the author, only to get a chilling response:[Do you think you could do better?]Before I could even blink, my phone exploded in a blinding light, and the next thing I knew—I was waking up in a completely different body.Now, I’m Merlin Everhart, a fourteen-year-old with a 12-star talent, the kind of gift only the strongest should have.But here’s the problem: I have no idea who I am supposed to be.With nothing but a system and a first-day-of-school alarm ringing in my ears, I’m thrown into the world of The Hero’s Path.Am I just another side character in a world that already ended once?…Either way, I refuse to let this story beat me 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.”