The First King of Beasts - Chapter 22 A Good Night’s Sleep

Reborn in the world of Naruto as the Nine Tails, he finds himself sealed within Uzumaki Kushina. No longer just a mindless beast, he possesses his own will, intelligence, and the power to change the fate of the tailed beasts.Madara : I never thought that my Rinnegan would be crushed by Nine Tails.Hashirama: Times have changed. I once controlled the Nine Tails, and now the Nine Tails controls me.Uchiha Mikoto: Kushina, I didn’t expect you to have something this powerful sealed inside you.Uzumaki Kushina: Each of the Nine Tails' tails gives me a different feeling.At this moment, the Nine Tails stood tall, representing all the tailed beasts.“Tailed beasts will never be slaves!”

One day a young man found a mysterious door in his grand father house and that door transported him to Tensura....welcome to the new world...all the credit for the characters and main story goes to the owners, this is just a fanfic none of the characters or the storyline belongs to me...Tensura won't be live until later in the chapters, so if you in a rush, you can quick rocks...

The new book has been opened “After Rebirth, Your Majesty, She Was Slightly Irritable”

full level gangster reborn female honor

The dilapidated thatched hut is poor and destitute, plus the acrimonious and mischievous father who regards money as his life…

It’s really not an ordinary bad heart…

fortunately! The caring, gentle and virtuous little husband is not bad!

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”