MTL - Horror Resurgence: Ma’am, Please Respect My Profession - Chapter 32

Have you ever wondered what it would feel like if your dick exploded? Or if voodoo or black magic actually worked?Axel got a crash course in both after leaving a one-star review for a trashy smut novel where the hapless author-san offed a minor villain. Little did he know that this particular author had some serious power.Suddenly, Axel found himself in the body of the very villain he was lamenting, right at the moment when everything was about to spiral into chaos.Now, with a second chance at life (and a brand-new set of problems), Axel must navigate the wild world of villainy—complete with explosive consequences and dark magic—if he wants to rewrite his story before it ends in disaster.

In a world where power is marked by glowing runes and monsters bleed through the fabric of reality, **Ryu** is nothing—an orphan with no name, no status, and no hope. Beaten down by nobles who wield their divine-given strength like a whip, he survives on scraps and stubborn defiance.But when a black rift—an anomaly unlike any ever recorded—appears in the dead of night, Ryu faces a choice: die a beggar, or risk everything by stepping into the unknown.Inside, he finds a nightmare. Kolasis, a legendary predator, hunts him through a twisted forest. The rules here are simple: kill or be killed. To survive, Ryu must forge himself into something sharper than the claws of monsters and crueler than the nobles who cast him aside.Yet the rift has its own secrets. The same power that could make him a legend might also break him—if the monsters don’t tear him apart first.

An eternal prison, a soulless body, a sealed spirit, everything lost.

To resign before merciless fate, or to become destiny!

“I lived in an illusion, I was lost, I could not find my home, I did not have a home… but why does it matter?! Between bowing to the threat of death and a spine that would never bend, I will choose the latter!”

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”