Just got divorced and immediately got seduced by the stunning senior sister - Chapter 29 - A Hero Without Equal!

This is the story of Kir, who has to thwart the will of Heaven, Hell, and his parents in order to survive, protect the people he loves, and achieve happiness.He just has to make it through life at a magical academy, avoid dying, and survive to find his birth mother, the lost Daughter of Heaven. Or be forced to take his place at the side of his father, a Duke of Hell bent on destroying the way things are.It's a lot to handle for a quiet, brooding angel boy.Fortunately, he has company. A succubus, a foxkin girl, and a half-angel boy to start. And Kir has his own secret: this isn't his first go at life.

A once supreme celestial being is reborn in the world of mortals!With the ability to decide life and death in his left hand through his remarkable medical skills,And overwhelming supernatural powers in his right hand to crush everything!Unrivaled in both medicine and martial arts, he roams freely with arrogance!

This is a story of a man named Kim Sae-Jin, who one day, inexplicably wakes up as a Monster. Follow him and his perilous journey to get his life back as a Human, all the while growing even more versatile as a Monster in the process. This should be… complicated, somewhat.

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.”