MTL - Black Clover: Runaway Asta - Chapter 90

Ding Yue had just traversed into the Parallel World and flunked his College Entrance Examination.To avoid his parents' double-punishment, Ding Yue forged an admission notice, created a fake university website, and rented a space near University Town to discretely run a counterfeit university in hope of fooling his parents.Things didn’t go as expected.On the first day of the term, the registration scene of his fake university surprisingly turned out to be a big hit...PS: This is a story filled with light-hearted farming narrative, everyday life, extravagantly rich and talented characters, technology, and top students... Feel free to add it to your bookshelf if you like it, and don’t forget to leave a recommendation vote~

In a parallel world, everyone awakened to weapon talents. They used divine weapons to battle against ferocious creatures.

Hence, the Forgemaster job class was born and was held in high esteem.

Wu Mo transmigrated to this world and became a student of the top academy, Divine Arms Academy.

The end-of-semester practical exam was in three days. Students were required to forge a divine weapon on the spot.

However, he was not prepared at all!

Fortunately, he awakened a system which allowed him to see the blueprints of all mythical weapons.

[Mjolnir]

[Divine Bow of the Winter God]

[Eternal Spear]

[Shield of Zeus]

…

Since he was a blacksmith, he decided to create a hammer for himself first.

On the day of the end-of-semester exam, the whole world was astonished!

An examiner exclaimed, “We asked you to submit your assignment and you are submitting Mjolnir?”

"I want to run away from everything."

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.”