Becoming a God Starts with Acting - Chapter 2: Beginning ()

An unexpected discovery in Machu Picchu has transported a young professional thief from Earth to a world filled with mystical powers and evil plots. With his beloved teacher and best friend killed during the calamity, his only goal is to become stronger, so that he can take revenge for them.This is a novel filled with politics, the struggle for power, evil beauties, and of course, Divine Immortals.

- Description from Novelupdates

When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a game where heroes and villains prevailed. I was told I would be granted one wish if I clear the game. The protagonist, who received a growth cheat that allows you to steal his stats by killing an opponent. He kills villains to grow up, but for some reason people mistake him for a “dark hero.” [Story-oriented]

Her wedding had also become her funeral.
Her stepsister and her fianc�� had gotten together at some point in time. It turned out that they had been the ones who had done it all along. She had been disfigured, raped, plagiarized, and her father had died in an accident.. All of this.. It turned out that they were the ones who had done it all.
She really regretted trusting the wrong person and misunderstanding the person who loved her... ...
After being reborn, she returned to her high school days.
She became a Straight-a student, won a grand prize, fought against the stepsister, confessed to the scumbag, and got lost. Her sister's lies were all broken. Faced with the shadow of rape, she came to recruit them. The chicken was braised with mushrooms, and a grand party was held. She made a name for herself. She was strong. She opened a shop, bought land, and earned a lot of money to be a boss But in front of him, she was a little woman that he doted on.
"Hei di, madam ran out again. She said she wanted to earn a lot of money to buy milk powder. "
Blue veins popped up on the man's forehead. "Here it comes again. Bring her back and open a bank for her. "

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.”