MTL - The Rebirth of the Ghosts Return - v3 Chapter 2462 Nothing dare

She transmigrated into an orphan, thinking that she still had her boyfriend with her, yet in an instant, her world crashed. For the position of heir, he said, “Yao’er, why don’t you become my second wife?” A sentence destroyed her wishful thinking, causing her to end their relationship of two lives cruelly. Leaving the hustle bustle, she then lived in a forest, wanting to find an honest man to spend the rest of her life with. But not long after getting married, she realized that the honest man she married was a bit dishonest.

Arthur Reynolds lived as a quiet, compassionate soul who loved to read and workout in his spare time, sacrificed himself to save his family, trading his own life for theirs.In death, his journey was far from over. Reborn into the mystical world of Sylvara as Raegar Blackwood, he discovers a land teeming with Aether, prestigious magic academies, perilous dungeons, and fearsome monsters.Join Raegar as he learns how to harnass his Fusion Magic to become a legend in the making. Witness him conquer dungeons, win tournements and become the strongest.

From the outside, Nana’s life seemed simple. She had everything she had ever wanted: a cute but rascally pair of twin brothers, a best friend, and her own restaurant. Nana couldn’t ask for anything more; she was happy and content in her life.

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.”