MTL - Douluo Dalu - v5 Chapter 641 Rejuvenation battle, the fourth soul ring

Makoto Kenji, an overworked underpaid loser, was suddenly transported to another world along with a few of his co-workers.arriving in the new world. they were brought to save the world from the onslaught of the demon king.but while assessing their prowess, they realized that Kenji was an animal tamer, one lesser than a beast tsmer and could only tame dogs and cats and occasionally a few birds.eventually, Kenji was kicked out, though, he was kicked out with a lot of gold on him, so he could easily get by.Eventually once more, Kenji was able to create a life for himself with his regular cooking skills which were like greatness in this world.for the regular dish of rice and curry was powerful enough to make the people of this world increase their rank levels. ( Under classes, there are ranks, and under ranks, there are six levels)But even with the fame and money he gad acquired, Kenji eventually got bored and decided to become an adventurer!but on his first quest, something happened to him. something that would change his entire life and the faith of this world.

In the waves of steam and machinery, who could achieve extraordinary? In the fogs of history and darkness, who was whispering? I woke up from the realm of mysteries and opened my eyes to the world.

In a fantasy world where martial artists can split mountains and creeks with a wave of their hand and break rivers with a kick, there exists a little restaurant like this.

The restaurant isn’t large, but it is a place where countless apex existences will rush into.

There, you can taste egg-fried rice made from phoenix eggs and dragon blood rice.

There, you can drink strong wine brewed from vermillion fruit and water from the fountain of life.

There, you can taste the barbecued meat of a ninth grade supreme beast sprinkled with black pepper.

What? You want to abduct the chef? That’s not going to happen, because there’s a divine beast of unfathomable level, the Hellhound, lying at the entrance.

Oh, that chef also has a robotic assistant that killed a ninth grade supreme being with a single hand and a group of crazy women whose stomachs were conquered.

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.”