The Lucky Wife Reborn In the 90s Era Has A Spatial Ability - Chapter 3

From the outside, Nana’s life seemed simple. She had everything she had ever wanted: a cute but rascally pair of twin brothers, a best friend, and her own restaurant. Nana couldn’t ask for anything more; she was happy and content in her life.

The MC transmigrates into Narutoverse in the body of a civilian orphan. Luckily for him, the transmigration results in chakra being unlocked. Follow the story of the MC as he grows in power and stabilizes himself into the world of ninjas and trains to be the strongest.

***

Warning:

1. The MC won't be op for a long time. All his power would be gained via hard work and training over years (so if u want an op mc right from the word go, this one ain't for you)

2. No harem (probably no romance either)

3. There will be a lot of killing (maybe gore too, not sure if I can do gore right though)

4. The story will start slow. Quite a few of initial chapters will be around training, orphanage and academy life, instead of directly becoming a Genin.

5. MC is a careful person, he won't put his life at risk unless there is no other choice.

6. I haven't read (nor will be reading) Baruto. So Baruto plotline won't be considered much in here.

What to expect:

1. Smart and consistent MC

2. Lots of training

3. MC manipulating the plot to his advantage

4. A lot of original arcs.

5. Plot will mostly stay the same (at least till Shippuden), but I won't repeat any scenes/dialogues that took place in the manga (as I'm assuming you've already read it).

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or it's characters (except the original characters I create). The image used in the cover isn't mine and belongs to R. J

P.S. It's my first fanfic, I'm hoping it turns out good. All reviews and constructive criticisms are welcome. Grammar and English should be fine, but I'm not sure how good the dialogues and scenarios will be. Hopefully I'll improve as this fanfic progresses forward.

Chapter release at 8pm every day - UTC +10

----------

“Cataclysm: Worlds End”

The name of the game that threw the world into disaster. 3 months after its release it descended onto Earth, merging with it and creating an apocalypse.

Hordes of bloodthirsty monsters were let loose onto the waking world, killing and destroying everything in its wake. Landmarks were torn down, whole continents left desolate in the destructive wake of the Cataclysm.

As the Cataclysm descended, every human regardless of age heard a monotonous voice in their heads...

[Choose your Class]

The story follows Jayce, an accomplished Swordsman who is killed by a boss monster 10 years after the apocalypse began. One of his last sentences before his death was how he dreamed to be a Chef when he grew up.

After his death, he returns back in time to the release day of Cataclysm. Having 3 months to try and figure out a way to improve his odds of survival this time around.

And the day finally arrived.

[Choose your Class]

[Class: Chef has been chosen]

“W-Wait what? I didn't even get a choice!”

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .

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.”