MTL - Marvel Reverses Wolverine - Chapter 281 special dimension world

When I woke up, my father was a nouveau riche whom everyone despised, and I had five great brothers: a black actor in the entertainment industry, a useless lawyer in the field of law, a sickly quack in the medical field, a plagiarizing dog in the design industry, and a school bully.

In the mysterious MMORPG 【ExoGenesis】, the extraordinary age of transcendence has arrived on Terra. Tristan is reborn on the very day the game launches, awakening an SSS-level talent: the Sniper God.[Sniper God (SSS-Level)]- Effect 1: All ranged attacks are guaranteed to hit, and the damage type is changed to true damage.- Effect 2: For every meter of distance from the target, damage increases by 10%.With such an overpowered talent, Tristan’s choice is clear—he becomes an assassin!With deadly precision and the ability to strike from miles away, Tristan proves that an assassin doesn’t have to fight up close.

Desperate to overcome her loner status, a forlorn female student was on her way to a welcome party held for newcomers at her college. Stepping on a banana peel and falling over she passes away. For some reason or another, she is reincarnated into the strongest dragon species…

“…. I really wanted to make friends, but now there is no point!!!”

Despite her complaints, this is the story of a Dragon who rouses herself in order to make friends.

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.”