When The Cute Kunoichis Spied on Their Teacher's Secret - Volume 1, Chapter 2

Accidentally brought to the Marvel world by a half-disabled main god space, Paqi really felt a lot of pressure.

Superheroes, S.H.I.E.L.D., Avengers, aliens… It’s always a war of the century.

In order to save himself, Patch felt that he had to do something.

It’s just that this move has turned the whole world upside down…

ps: [This book is also known as “The Black Hand Behind the Peerless God Pit in the Marvel World” and “The Marvel Subversion Road of the Two Main Gods in the Counterfeit”, a new book is uploaded, please collect it! Please recommend! Ask for all support! 】

- Description from novelbuddy

In an alternate timeline of Warhammer 30k, the Emperor of Mankind discovers the Independence Cluster, a group of technologically advanced worlds that have preserved Dark Age of Technology knowledge. Here, He encounters His first found Primarch, Franklin Valorian, known as the Symbol of Liberty.The charismatic and humorous Valorian, standing 15 feet tall, meets the Emperor with a mix of curiosity and irreverence. Unlike others, Valorian sees the Emperor as a powerful but regular man with a greater purpose, akin to a superhero.

“What for? Isn't it enough to bully me like this, do you want to screw me too?”The woman was pressed up against Lin Tian.……“Ah... ah...”Being fucked in a car for the first time, and by a stranger at that, the woman felt an excitement she had never known before.Lin Tian felt the same, wishing he could fuck her for three days and nights nonstop....

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.”