My Master Disconnected Yet Again - Chapter 692 - Fighting the Boss

“This twisted world needs to be reset. That's what V2 is for!”-------------------------------------------------------------Waking up only to find that she's reincarnated into a world very reminiscing of a game that she used to play, Yuki is suddenly thrust into a worldwide conflict. To ensure the longevity of her newfound motherland, Yuki will have no choice but to flip this war upside down. If only to finally has some closure for past life also.So buckle up, strap your helmet tight, and keep your rifle loaded and on safe. This is not your bog-standard story about overpowered characters on a battlefield, no. This is a story about warfare in all its bloodied glory, the leader that calls the shot, the soldiers that execute them, and the nation that's backing them up. And along the way, sprinkle those a healthy dose of beautiful maidens, lily/futa romances, and build a harem.This is not gonna be a quick and decisive run, no. We're in this one for the long haul. Hail, Ironblood!

Reborn into something new and in a new world, Morgana found herself with no memories about her past. She lost them when a powerful entity took pity on her and offered her the chance to be reborn in her own primitive world.A letter left by her past self told her about... well, nothing really. The old Morgana was glad when she learned that she would lose her memory due to being reborn as part of this deal. She accepted without hesitation, especially after the powerful entity explained everything in detail.“WHAT!” Morgana exclaimed, reading the letter. “We’re both BIG perverts! And what do you mean by spreading my legs and pushing out many babies?”“EXPLAIN!”Reborn with stunning silver hair, crimson eyes, and a Futa, Morgana now belonged to a new race called Breeder.Follow the journey of Morgana as she tries to survive in this primitive world, with a LOT of Breeding.…[Warning: This story contains heavy R-18 sexual content, including pregnancy, futanari, Incest, breeding, and more. Read at your own risk.]

At her wedding banquet, a man claiming to be Selina's lover stormed in, brandishing so-called intimate photos and causing chaos.Selina immediately saw through this as a scheme orchestrated by her half-sister, Natalia. However, Selina's fiancé, Ryan, not only refused to believe her but also went out of his way to defend Natalia.It turned out that Ryan and Natalia had already developed feelings for each other in secret. Everyone—Selina's father, stepmother, and Ryan's parents—knew about their affair, except for Selina, who was left in the dark.Taking advantage of the situation, Selina's father suggested swapping brides, proposing that Natalia replace Selina and complete the wedding. Ryan's family not only didn’t object but wholeheartedly supported the idea.That was the moment Selina finally realized the cruel truth: her family and Ryan's family were nothing but wolves in sheep’s clothing!“Cancel the engagement? Fine. But let it be clear—I’m the one rejecting you, you two-timing, spineless excuse for a man!” Selina declared with unshakable confidence.Her gaze then swept across the room, landing on an elegant and distinguished man. She vaguely remembered him as Ryan’s younger uncle. Walking over, she boldly asked, “Sir, how about getting married?”The man raised an eyebrow, finding her audacity intriguing. “It would be my honor, madam,” he replied....

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.”