MTL - Start From Soul Society and Cutting Through All the Worlds - Chapter 287 It’s okay if you don’t understand, but you can’t be without character.

Finn, your average college student with one noble goal: get home and watch some quality adult content in peace. Tragically, fate had other plans. A truck barreled toward him… then stopped halfway. The driver locked eyes with Finn—and hit him anyway.Now he’s dead.Wakes up in some divine waiting room. Gets mocked by a sarcastic, busty goddess. Gets offered the most useless powers imaginable.And worst of all? Still no porn.Frustrated beyond mortal comprehension, Finn throws an epic tantrum and drags the goddess down into the fantasy world with him. Now stuck in a realm full of grotesque monsters, cursed towns, and suspiciously moist terrain, Finn has no idea what he’s doing. No clue. No dignity. Suffering most of the time.With zero powers, infinite horniness, and one very angry divine companion, can Finn survive this absurd new world?Can he dodge death, outwit demonic squirrels, and maybe—just maybe—score a waifu?Or will he die in this world too…still painfully uncuddled?Let the absurd isekai disaster begin.[WARNING: THIS BOOK IS UNHINGED. DO NOT TAKE OFFENSE TO ANYTHING—IT’S ALL FOR COMEDIC PURPOSES. YOU’VE BEEN WARNED.]

When you're reborn as Jorah Mormont you ain't got much. A Dad looking to bale and go spend his days hanging out with the guys on the Wall, a wild Aunt raising your wild cousins you can't stand, an arranged marriage to a girl you never met with a dowry almost low enough to be an insult, and a populace of smallfolk so inebriated and incompetent its no wonder nothing's changed around here in 8,000 years. Hopefully the gold finger granted by Levid's Magically Wheel of Reincarnation can help.A really nice pair of testicles.With that, the right attitude, and a shovel I have everything I need to dig a nice grave to lay in.Or Bag End. Let's see which happens first.

Luan Hualie is just too pitiful! She was just playing a game when she was suddenly transported into another world to become the Young Miss. Just this is okay, but she actually doesn’t have the slightest bit of power!

However, at this moment she had long stopped being the originally powerless eldest young miss. Mythical weapons and pets in her hand, what is there to fear underneath the heavens?

She rose above the mountains and brought down the oceans, and even more so subdued great amounts of devil beasts and holy beasts!

When she swept away the entire continent with her powerful and imposing manner, who could tell she was originally that ridiculous eldest young miss of Lu Family?

He, the prince of Qin, a black-bellied little shotacon, played the pig to eat the tiger. In the midst of the collisions and crossing of swords, how did his mind and body fall into enemy hands?

He, the spawn of the devil, slaughtered and felled the whole world. Without heart, without emotion, without desire. A long contest, countless fights. Why did a brilliant ray of light start to penetrate that frozen world of his?

He, the beautiful man saved from the slave market, obviously had excellent martial arts. Yet, how was he reduced to the most inferior slave? Faced with her salvation, why were his thoughts in a whirl?

And there was still him!

- 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.”