MTL - I Will Be The Crowned King - v5 Chapter 98 wise king

As if it wasn’t enough for me to be reincarnated as a child in the slums, I was taken to a city of crime and became a test subject. But then, when I saw the man that came to destroy the research institute, I realized that this was the world of an angst-filled reverse harem novel.

While living a relatively normal life after escaping from the institute, the heroine of the novel moved in next door. From the looks of it, I might be the heroine’s neighbor extra. Originally, the heroine was to save the unconscious and fatally wounded villain and in return, be subject to a fanatical obsession.

But, why. Why is the sub-villain collapsed in front of my house?

The sub-villain, Lakis Avalon, was the king of the underworld and the very same frightening man that I had met at the institute before.

“…”

I took a moment’s glance around then I kicked the man’s body away.

You’ve got the wrong house, Villain.

Like every (Isekai) protagonist, I got reincarnated after getting hit by a hyper-speed truck.

That was an empty and dark life anyway, so I was already looking forward to a decent, unknown afterlife.

But... the world had a unique thing in mind.

In this new world, I had parents, amazing ones at that.

My father was a talented mage, and my lovely mother was a sharp and cunning merchant.

Ignoring all of my weirdness, they loved me unconditionally.

This was the life that anyone would love.

Eating and cooking delicious food, practicing archery and magic, and playing with my parents.

Everything was wonderful until... those demons separated us and it left me in a ferocious forbidden forest, just to be eaten alive by beasts.

But dying wasn't even a question.

I will go back… to them.

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.”