MTL - Marvel: I Can Download Unlimited Talents - Chapter 20 : Back to the Avengers base

I’ve had my fair share of weird wake-ups, but opening my eyes in Black Clover as some no-name extra? That’s a new one, and let me tell you—it’s not exactly the dream reincarnation scenario. Turns out, I’m Sebastian Silva, a guy so insignificant he’s barely a footnote in the series. Oh, and did I mention I’m the father of Noelle Silva and the husband of Acier Silva, the most badass woman in the Clover Kingdom? Yeah, talk about pressure.The kids hate me, my wife barely acknowledges me, and my role in the family is pretty much non-existent. But now that I’ve got my past life’s memories and a second chance, I’m not about to let things slide. With Acier on her deathbed, family dysfunction through the roof, and powerful players lurking in the shadows, I’ve got a lot on my plate.Saving my wife? Reconnecting with my children? Staying under the radar of the Wizard King and some seriously dangerous enemies? It’s not the easiest transmigration, but hey—we’ll live with it.*NOTE: Although all chapters will be written by me, to maintain daily upload, and not lower quality, because I have many time commitments like university, work, etc. Chapter's will be subjected to revision and editing through Grammarly AI.

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…

- Description from novelupdates

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.”