The God Virus - Chapter 412 The Butterfly

After being awakened by a raging headache and faint memories of his past life, Tsubakihara Yuuji found a strange smartphone he had never seen before.Opening it, he found a single question that would change his life and many others for the better, forever.[Do you wish to join the Multiverse Group Chat?][Yes] / [No]

Transmigrated to the fantasy medieval continent, Luo De becomes the lord of the desolate Northern Territory.This land is savage and primitive, with rampant robbers and terrifying Magical Beasts.Fortunately, Luo De can develop the territory to unlock entries, gaining knowledge and Extraordinary abilities.[Hammered the iron a thousand times, unlocking entry: Forge Power][Forge Power (White): Increase base strength by 20%][Load?]“Load.”

If a man ‘Levels Up’, any boring work can be repeated endlessly―Natsuno Taiyou.

“Talent” should be useful only in game, but even in reality how is it useful!?

When Taiyou woke up he received a power from a fairy “The ability to Level Up in the real world”, but immediately when leveling up boring work, surprisingly ‘charm’ had dropped down!―However, the charm level that was originally 0, has thank god become ‘65535′!

Taiyou aims to level 100. And enjoy a harem life with seven brides.

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.”