Reborn in Naruto As Madara's Grandson - Chapter 486: 451. Blunt sword Kabutowari

After Lin Xu died, she discovered that the world she was in was a novel.Her eldest son liked to imprison the female protagonist of the novel, engaging in sinister villainous acts with a dark room play.Her youngest son would unfailingly draw substitute’s blood and snatch substitutes’ kidneys for the female protagonist’s legal antagonist — his unrequited love.Her only daughter was the romantic fool forever revolving around the male protagonist of the novel.If children are not disciplined, the mother is to blame. After being reborn, Lin Xu felt she should step in and discipline her wayward children.However, before she could take action, her eldest son’s dark, handsome, and usually cold face blushed slightly as he asked in a low voice, “Can I touch my head?”The middle son snorted and turned his head, his tone petulant, “I… I don’t want to go home, but if you insist, I’ll do it begrudgingly.”The youngest daughter rushed over, mercilessly pushing her brothers aside, “Mom, come and teach me how to solve this problem~”Latter, both sons fought over the bowl of noodles Lin Xu cooked. What was a novel’s female protagonist? Nothing compared to their mother.The daughter transformed herself, letting nothing from any novel’s male protagonist interfere with her studies!The family was blissfully happy.Latter, the revived, amnesiac husband suddenly appeared, cornering her against the wall, his eyes full of struggle, “Even if you’re married, I still love you.”Lin Xu pretended to be serious, “Is that so, then what should we do?”He hugged her tightly, his voice muffled and pained, “Divorce him!”Lin Xu chuckled secretly, “I’ll divorce him right away.”Latter, after the husband regained his memory, he said through gritted teeth, “Over my dead body will we divorce!”

The fallen ones, strange monsters that showed up on earth with the sole purpose of destroying everything and ruling over humans.Only one man remained during the onslaught, his name, was Rashin Montero.“Do you wish to live or die?”The question appeared before him.“Kill me assholes!”He died.A hundred years passed and Rashin finds himself alive in the future.It turned out he was saved by a stray angel, and was granted a powerful energy that allowed him to stand on equal footing with the monsters that once wanted to take over earth.In his new future, the world has been restored to what it ones was, a huge shield was placed around the world to keep the Hakiaas out.Heroes were summoned to defend the world against these monsters during the Countdown, while the monsters could not be killed or harmed, they could still be sent back to their world.Or at least, until Rashin arrived.[Blacksmith System activated. Welcome host.][Initializing core functions... Complete.][Congratulations, you have gained a new blue paint (Large sword.)][Stella blade has passed all requirements to evolve.][Evolving to human form can now be processed.][Congratulations, you have gained a unique core, your weapons can now undergo fusion.]Having a system that allowed him to craft weapons of all kind, Rashin enters this new world trying to survive while also remembering part of his memories.Not just that, he can also turn every weapon he makes into beautiful overpowered maidens capable of killing the Hakiaas aka fallen ones.

It is said that humans only reveal 5% of their DNA. The person you perceive yourself to be and the person others judge you for is determined by this 5%. No one can know what is in the hidden 95%.

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.”