MTL - My Master Disconnected Yet Again - Chapter 682 Suddenly Enchanted

“Martial Arts World...” Death murmured, shocked by the turn of the events. How could he, primordial being of the afterlife, get tricked by a mere human? Not just a mere human, but also earthling, race that was weakest of the twenty realms. Death realized the extent of his mistake. An earthling had just jumped into the river of the reincarnation, where he definitely didn’t belong. It was too late. The damage has been done. The matter was now out of his hands. “Kiernan Hunter...” ... Remake of the Martial Arts System, and while the concept stays the same, the story is completely different. A few names, etc, stays the same, but mostly whole new story.

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.”

Perhaps the paintings in a museum are subjected to more nonsense than you would hear anywhere else in the world.The language that comes out of an artist’s life is the painting itself. It contains the most ordinary lives that know failure, desire, recoiling in fear, and compromise.Learning is about understanding that language. We miss much of what the paintings speak because there is no way to ask the long-dead painters about the philosophy of their lives.In an alleyway in the residential area of Jongno, there’s a peculiar art gallery. This place enables us to transcend such limitations. By sheer coincidence, I ended up visiting that place and began living an entirely different life.

Seojin transmigrated into the novel named ‘777: The Crowned Sovereign’ as Seven, a side character.Here, he was the seventh child of the seventh archduke of the seventh kingdom of the seventh continent.On Earth, he was raised by his seventh stepfather and the child of the seventh ex-wife of the seventh mayor. He even had his seventh maid quit the job.He was also the seventh reader of the novel he transmigrated into.[Welcome, Seventh Reader! Your loyalty has been awarded.]With this many sevens, will he curse it as an unlucky number or… praise it seventy seven times?…Note: The author is a complete newbie and this is the seventh draft. Please don't expect this as such a grand story.Thanks. Merci. Danke. Bedankt. Terima kasih. Gracias. Salamat.Congrats! You just learned how to say ‘thanks’ in seven languages! ;P