MTL - Pretend To Be a Boss - Chapter 369v2 leave the judge nowhere

Xia Yan passed through to the world of Bleach and became an eleven-year-old boy. He was rescued by Renji and Rukia in the Seireitei, and he was studying at Shin’ō Academy, and he was a student of the same class.
He is a top student of the Shin’ō Academy, and he is vying for strength by various teams. In the end, he has entered the first team of secret mobile maneuvers.
He will use punishment to kill every person who tries to threaten the martyrdom and protect his loved one.

- Description from Novelupdates

Military technology is an important criterion for measuring the strength of a country’s national defense.

Powerful weapons and equipment can kill thousands of troops, kill thousands of miles away, and redefine war.

Powerful weapons and equipment can defend the territory, resist foreign enemies, protect Guotai and Min’an, and protect the prosperity of the world.

I am willing to forge a sword for the rejuvenation of this great country, and I am willing to forge the Great Wall for the peace of this country.

Holding on to my sword, I will smash the thorns and defeat the enemy.

If you guard my Great Wall, you will be able to defeat the enemy and make good news.

Let’s see how a young man creates an era of military domination 2.0.

- Description from Qidian

Have you ever seen a hunter spamming infinite meteors?

That’s me.

It is now 40 years after monsters started appearing in the world and with it, Awakened. Min-Cheol feels that life is unfair, comparing his life to the ones which the Awakened lead. After a scuffle with one of the Awakened, he gains an ability which allows him to have infinite mana.

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.”