MTL - Eternal Heart - ~ Section

Jack Smith’s life ended rather abruptly. Spinning out on ice while driving a truck was not the most magnificent method to depart this earth. A mediocre man he had led an ordinary life until his death. Now with a second chance at life, he decided that this time he would be exceptional. This time he would finally live up to his name. After all, a jack of all trades is a master of none but ultimately better than one.Armed with a system and determination to do his best he sets out like any other reincarnated soul in another world to find his place and achieve great things. There is just one small problem with getting started in this endeavour . . . he is yet to be born!Welcome to a progression fantasy with a twist. What might you be able to achieve if your race to the top began before your body had even been born?Join our hero as he masters the language, magics and skills of the Compass Kingdoms but his first great challenge will be learning to walk once more. . . . .Warning 1: Be prepared for the MC to spend an entire book's worth of words and time as an infant but hopefully you will enjoy it nevertheless.Warning 2: Grandfather is legally abusive to MC for a couple of chapters but he is removed from that situation around chapter 30. To be edited out some time in the future.

A girl Alicia lived as an orphan in a world of sword and magic Ciel.

One day, she learned that she was an “otome game’s heroine”. Even her parents’ death was simply a part of the scenario. Alicia judged the heroine’s setting as 「nonsense」and discarded it decisively. She introduced herself as adventurer 『Aria』, gradually mastered multiple weapons and magic, and grew to become the 「Ash Crowned Princess of Slaughter」! But, by accepting a request to guard the “villainess”, before she realized it she got dragged into the stage where nobles quarreled against each other――？

「I am “I”. I’m not a game character!」

Create weapon! Train your body!

Survive the fighting against powerful enemies and smash apart the otome game!

A sublime and exhilarating other world battle fantasy with charming fighting heroine!

At nineteen, Dexter was already one of the world’s most celebrated authors. His books topped charts. Critics praised his genius. Fans devoured every word. But behind the acclaim was a lonely boy—raised without parents, love, or real friends—just stories.He published his first novel at fourteen. By seventeen, he was a literary star. But the higher he rose, the hollower it felt.Then came the writer’s block. The headaches. The blackout. And the transmigration.Dexter awoke in the body of Daylan, a disgraced young man in a crumbling, medieval world laced with steampunk tech, divine law, and political unrest. Daylan had already failed two of the three sacred Trials—rites that determine one’s magical potential. He was drowning in debt, entangled in plots to overthrow a corrupt Divine Church, and branded a lost cause.With no way back, Dexter took the final Trial—the most brutal of them all—and began a path that would earn him the whispered title: Soldier, Poet, King.But as his powers grew, one question haunted him: Did he truly die? And if so, who—or what—chose to bring him back?

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.”