MTL - Pirates: Swing a Knife and Become Stronger - Chapter 312 Pteranodon form! Flame Emperor's Fire

Some people transmigrate into Emperors, others become wangye.

They live in luxury; their hands covering the Heavens.

Some people transmigrate into shizuns, or sect leaders.

They would have the respect of all, their powers supernatural.

Some unlucky souls become villains, but even with their terrible reputations they would still have enough power to summon rain from the sky, maybe even manage to kill off the protagonist.

But Li Changtian, a stand up young man from a good family, who died on the battlefield protecting someone, widened his eyes.

He! Transmigrated!

Into a person everyone wanted dead, with an unabsolvable crime!

Li Changtian: “??? Wait wait, did something go wrong somewhere?”

The magistrate of the Imperial Justice Bureau, Yan Shu, who hated injustice more than anything in the world had just stepped onto his head and said in an ice cold voice: “A life for a life.”

Li Changtian: “&%%%￥&￥#@”

- Description from Novelupdates

Earth has been visited by the Embryeniel records, so the world and its habitants are pushed towards the path of evolution.Strange monsters only made up by imagination appeared everywhere and the world changed into a situation of either survival or death.Jon is a normal student in Palflic university, all he thought about was finishing his school safely and is faced with possibility of been abandoned by his parents, however little did he know about himself and what the world had in-store for him.Other worlds and universes, clans and sects, people and monsters stand in his way, will he prevail or succumb to the desires of others.

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.”

If you just stay still, you’ll get to the middle.If you try to show off how good you are at work, the tasks will only increase.By the time I realized that the absolute rule of the military also applied to the position of the crown prince, it was already too late.