MTL - The Magic Healer in the Another world - v3 Chapter 154 Weird power

Consume and evolve to become the strongest.

The Collector, an alien warrior on a mission to absorb all life, transmigrates to a world of fantasy and magic.

However, a battle with a god forces it to begin its journey as nothing more than a weak grub.

Used to fighting against space ships and machines, the Collector must now navigate its strange new world where instead of dealing with bullets and aircraft, it must now face magic and dragons.

It must evolve from the weakest of the weak, the lowest of the low, and become strong, stronger than anything on the planet whether it be a knight, monster, or the very gods themselves.

===Doever Writing Quality Guarantee===

I can give a solid guarantee that the writing quality of this novel is of the highest tier on this website.

There will be very few mistakes, and the few that do slip by me will not affect readability at all. Now, you may not agree with how the novel develops, but I can at the least guarantee that you will have no trouble actually reading what happens.

Of course, I am not perfect, so please feel free to point out mistakes and problems and I will be more than happy to fix them!

===Foreword===

Evolution/Non-Human/Unique MC: If you like evolution based novels and nonhuman MCs, then you've come to the right place. The whole novel will be about consuming creatures and their bloodlines and evolving.

The MC is also not the average isekai'd by truck average dude in most transmigration stories, it is an alien monster from the very beginning if that interests you any.

Cold/Ruthless/Villain - Anti-Hero MC: If you like MCs that are on the colder and more ruthless side, the MC does not operate by conventional human morals and starts off as a villain and will be a questionable anti-hero at best.

Slow Pace: Like my other novel on this site, this novel will have a slow pace compared to other works. Hopefully, this will enhance your experience as a reader with description rich, vivid and engaging fight scenes and environments.

The slow pace will also contribute to fleshing out a significantly developed world as well as setting up for plot events that will have relevance throughout the entire novel.

It was just like any other day, or so I thought at least. The birds were chirping up on trees, clouds were rolling by the bright blue sky and Elves were dumpster diving in the alleyway.

Okay, one of those three didn’t sound right...

I had a boring life once. Recently though, it has become less boring... to put it one way.

Finding a random Elf in the dumpster? Heh, must be a Monday.

A normal person would have walked by. A normal person would have ignored it.

I must be a pretty weird guy, then.

Now I have this Elf swearing her allegiance to me. What’s next, vampires?

He doesn’t want to be wanted for bounty, or be a pirate, but if there’s no other choice, he can only become a pirate…..

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.”