MTL - Sword of Daybreaker - Chapter 1491 "Wrong copy"

Some say reincarnation is a blessing, but for me, it's a dreadful curse. Cursed with endless reincarnation, I've been reborn as a villain 137 times. And all 137 times, I've been toyed with and killed by heroes who are far more cruel than the said villains... If I can't win no matter what I do, then I'll crush those so-called heroes at their very roots. - Quality Fan Translations, Made by Fans for the Fans - Villain Takes Over The Academy

Lan Xuan smiled gently as she said, “My dear sister, who told you to obstruct my path? Your man belongs to me, your dowry belongs to me, your everything, belongs to me.”

Kael was once a being so powerful even the gods feared him—until he was thrown into The Null, a realm of endless torment and eventually cast into inexistence. But he returns, reincarnated as a powerless beggar in a broken world ruled by monsters and corruption.With memory of godly blood on his hands, he is determined to reclaim his strength, survive the Nexus's deadly trials, and tear down the heavens themselves.But it's a matter of time before the gods and celestials know he’s returned. And this time, they will not make the same mistake twice.> ◇ Ravager (Rank E) Eliminated. 20 VRP Gained.> ◇ 0.00109% Memory Unlocked. Forgotten Technique: Blight Shield Relearned.> ◇ Ather'valis, The God-Killing Blade, has been acquired.

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.”