MTL - Super Manufacturing Force - Chapter 460 Flee

Renji had many exes.

However, these exes were all fictional characters in a post-apocalyptic game.

As an absolute devotee of strength, whenever a character became useless in the game, Renji would strip them of their equipment, claim their resources, and relegate them to the background as caretakers, giving the best to new powerful characters.

Of course, Renji always insisted that this was temporary, all in the name of advancing in the game and saving this precarious post-apocalyptic world!

But...

These “Fictional Characters” didn't seem to see it that way.

When Renji, with his emphasis on strength and meticulous planning, fulfilled his mission as the “savior,” putting an end to the source of Tainted Miasma in the wasteland and becoming the first to achieve a “perfect clearance.”

He unexpectedly found himself transported to the game's second stage.

He had thought he would soar directly, living a carefree life, but Renji realized that things were not quite as he had imagined.

……………………………………………………………

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Reborn in the world of Naruto, Otis is granted a single “Legendary Skill”: Throwing. No chakra beasts. No kekkei genkai. Just the art of hurling things... perfectly. Now a towering five-year-old in Konoha, Otis must survive a ninja world that laughs at his gift — until they see what a true master of throwing can do.------------------------------------------Disclaimer:This is a fan fiction inspired by Naruto by Masashi Kishimoto. All rights belong to their original owners. No copyright infringement intended. For concerns, contact me and I’ll take it down.------------------------------------------(A/N):This Fanfiction is written by me.This is not a translation or adaptation.I upload on Webnovel, Royal Road, and Scribble Hub only------------------------------------------Want to read ahead?Join my Patreonpatreon.com/pacifist01https://discord.gg/SeF8utGspM

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.