Naruto: Limit Breaker - Chapter 72: No Nesting Dolls Allowed

Hyde arrives in a doomed world with nothing but his body and fragmented knowledge of the future from a game he once played. He has no grand ambition—why try to save a world already destined to fall? Survival is enough.That is, until he discovers his sister is also transported into that world.However, only he hears the Melody of Nightingale and receives the power to survive.[You have established a connection with The Forgotten Hollow.]Awakening as a Resonant—an elite group with supernatural abilities—he is thrust into a conflict between two worlds. Armed with the authority of space and time, he vows to protect his powerless sister at all cost, even if he has to fight against the Mirage creatures, other Resonants, or even Gods themselves.

Ludwig Heart, the heir to a vast fortune and a life of luxury, craves only one thing: freedom from his gilded cage. But when a plane crash catapults him into a world of magic and danger, he awakens not as the hero he dreamed of, but as a victim in a twisted ritual. Trapped between the ambitions of dark necromancers and the wrath of vengeful gods, Ludwig must navigate a deadly new reality where his life is no longer his own. Stripped of privilege and resurrected as an undead pawn, Ludwig’s fight for survival will determine whether he reclaims his destiny—or becomes a mere footnote in a world of shadows and deceit.

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.”