MTL - Monster Hunt: Notes From a Hunter - Chapter 636 attrition

Before I woke up, I had a dream about the end of the world. At first, it felt like a vivid nightmare that left me shaken. But as I slowly woke up, I realized that the dream was the pre-ending scene of my own novel.I am Zio Varrez, an unnamed character in my own book, and to my disappointment, an extra. As I lived in my novel's world, I couldn't help but feel that my existence was meaningless. But what made it worse was the fact that the ending of my book was the end of the world - a bad ending.I knew I had to do something to become strong enough to change the world's fate, even if it meant altering the story I once knew completely. Little did I know, there was more to this world than I realized, and the journey I was about to embark on would uncover secrets that I never even imagined.“I thought I knew everything about the world, but as I lived and experienced it, I realized there was so much more to it than I ever imagined.”

Ercella lived a glorious life everyone envied, but died of an illness at a young age.

Before her death, she regretted not having become a proper mother to her son.

But somehow, she went back three years ago.

Ercella is living her second life.

I promise to be a loving mother this time.

However, is it too late?

“Now that you’re doing this, you’re just making me feel uncomfortable.”

The son only pushes her away and she realises that her relationship with the husband, who she thought was fine before her regression, wasn’t actually…

It was only last year that I realized that the world I had been reincarnated into was the world of the Romantic Comedy book. What's worse, the person I had reincarnated as was someone featured in the book.A running gag character who the Main Characters ran into at the most random times, of no use, and who would disappear as quickly as he appeared—an Extra C.Last year. A year before starting High School.It was already too late.Extra C had already become...

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.”