Classroom Of The Elite Year 1 - Chapter 357 - 6 Part IV

“Blonde again this time.” It’s already the third time being possessed. The third time with blonde hair. At this point, I can’t help but doubt the taste of the deity I serve, Pebula. Upon waking up, the detailed personal information of the third body, Siora, is as follows: [Siora Velvet. 20 years old. Parents died in a fire. Currently under the protection of Count Bonetti. Remaining assets: 0g. Scheduled to be evicted in 3 days] It’s clearly a worse situation than the previous two possessions! *** As the only priestess, cleric, saint, and pope of the ancient deity Pebula, one day she received a book. The book titled described that the world would soon be destroyed by the villain ‘Cruello White Desert.’ “Ancient deity Pebula, please perform a miracle.” As soon as she finished reading the book, Pebula, who had given the revelation to ‘Reform the villain!’ immediately threw her into the body of the villain’s childhood fiancée. First attempt: Died after being poisoned instead of the villain, thus failing. Second attempt: Possessed the body of the villain’s maid but also failed, as she was too focused on doing nothing but dying. Finally, the third attempt. Waking up in the body of Siora, who had no connection with the villain, she strives to make a connection with Cruello. However, there is only one year left before Cruello destroys the world… Moreover, after two failed attempts, the once innocent child has already grown into a wicked villain! Like Cinderella returning home at midnight, Siora wants to save Cruello and escape her duties. Will she be able to fulfill her role and break free from her fate? #Overpowered #MultiplePossessions #PoliticalMarriage #Revenge #ComingOfAge #Redemption #SaintOfAncientDeity #ReformTheVillain

When his wife left without a word when they were young, he entrusted their child to his mother and spiraled into despair, drowning his sorrows in alcohol.Sixteen years passed in a blur, and his daughter was diagnosed with depression.As she lay on the hospital bed, she struggled to smile.“Dad, I don't blame you, and I never blamed Mom. If I have another life, I still want to be your child, but please, don't leave me again.”With that, she closed her eyes and departed from this world.It felt like something tore apart in the depths of his heart.Gu Chen fell into a coma.Upon awakening again, his two-year-old daughter was calling him “Daddy” with a sweet smile and a childish voice.He was reborn!This time, he vowed to make up for his regrets towards his daughter, to hold his wife's hand and never let her go.This time, he was determined to change everything!

Everyone has friends in their lives, right?They can be anyone—good friends, bad friends, or even... friends with benefits.Ahem!Anyway, the point is, everyone has friends. And so did I.I was friends with author of web novel.Yeah, was.A small argument over how the main character should act in novel of [World’s Greatest Hero] led to a fight with my friend, the author.Still frustrated, I stormed out of his house... and that’s when Truck-kun hit me.But that wasn’t the worst part.The worst part? I woke up in a different body—the body of a side character in my friend’s novel.A character who is supposed to die in the prologue.[Your body is dying!][You don’t have much time left.][The creator of this world is mocking you.]F#ck you, Author.F#ck this novel.I will survive, and when I do—I'll beat you to a pulp!

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.”