I Became the Academy's Disabled Student - Chapter 250: Another mistake?

DING!![You killed a Level 3 Mutant Zombie for the first time!]-----DING!![You have crossed the limit of humanity! Entering the mutation stage!]-----DING!![Congratulations, user! You are now a being beyond human beings!]-----Being a good person cost him his life. When death sent him back, he vowed to take revenge and finish the job.Behind the icy cold that grips the world and the red light that fills the sky day and night, he must defy the zombie apocalypse.A safe house, unlimited food and drink, every conceivable weapon and a system to help him... But he has only two things on his mind: Survival and revenge.

[Congratulations. You have met the requirements to become a Cursed One! Your fate has been changed!]What did it mean? Ragna was a transmigrator, reborn into this world as a Cursed One. But what was a Cursed One, they were the demon spawsns aclaimed to be the son's of the devil himselfA black screen with white text appeared before him, and he felt a sense of trepidation.[ Request Accepted ][ Status Screen Unfolding ]Character Name: Ragna RingwoodTitles: Cursed OneAge: an hour oldSex: MaleRace: UnknownLevel: 0Exp:0/100HP: 5/10[Attributes]Mana: 10Strength: 10Agility: 10Vitality: 10Mana Sense: 10Bloodline: (Unknown)???????Skills: NoneRagna's eyes widened as he stared at the screen. He was a Cursed One, with unknown abilities and powers. The thought sent a surge of excitement through him.

Jack Alfonso, the seventh child of the youngest generation of the Alfonso family of Crystal city goes through a lot of trouble at home.His mother dies when he was still fifteen years old. Then, things get worse as he’s bullied by his older half siblings.In the end, he decided that since the Alfonso family couldn’t help him in this life, he would just have to look for a way by himself.He decides to use the small amount of money that he’d been saving since he was thirteen till he was nineteen.He leaves Crystal city that was under full influence of Alfonso family and goes to a backward city, Inchoate city where he starts a small business.Who knew that he when he received his first income, he received a prompt that startled him.[Ding! Congratulations on activating the Hundred Times Income Multiplier.][Ding! You’ve earned three hundred dollars. Multiplier applied. You’ve received thirty thousand dollars.][Ding! First income. As a reward, you gain a Suzuki GSX-R1000][Ding! First income. As a reward, you gain a custom made Bugatti Veyron.][Ding! The system can assist you. You’ll be rewarded with the professional driving skills. But, you’ll have to complete a task given to you at the specified period of time. If the task isn’t completed, then not only would you lose the skill, you’ll also be punished by the system.][Ding! First income. As a reward, you gain a Eurocopter EC135][Ding! First month of income earning. Rewarded with Glaze Hotel.]….With that, his life immediately changed for the better. He didn’t know what would happen next but he had gained a new dream. He would want to become wealthier than Alfonso family.This way, at least they would regret not caring about him. But that wouldn’t be all, he would have to make sure that the family goes down. The reason for this was pretty simple, he found out the reason for his mother’s death!

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.”