MTL - Tempered Immortal - v5 Chapter 115 Magical incarnation

Seo-Joon, who had been working to save money in order to pay off his dead parents’ debt and attend a hunter academy, ended up needing to spend all his savings on a surgery due to an unfortunate accident.In his moment of despair, a weird advertisement played.[You can also become an awakener!]He decided to register since he had nothing else to lose.[Mr. Kim Seo-Joon, welcome to Transcension Academy.]This hunter academy is on a completely different ‘dimension’ than the rest!In the age of private hunter education, you can also become a ‘transcender.’

I thought the world was vast, for me to wander, but now, it has only become a cage. For a life unhindered, I wield a single sword to pierce the ninth heavens. People find me displeasing, but there’s nothing they can do. That’s the kind of life I love!“Stop! I paved this path and I planted these trees. If you want to pass through…”“Brother, I come from the Dustfallen sect.”“What? The Dustfallen sect! Piss off!”This pitiful sect was so poor to the point where even bandits did not want to waste time on it. However, how could this sect, these nine measly people, be ordinary? What you see is only what they wish for you to see. What you can’t see is the truth!Mu Yu—a young human boy with the powers of elemental demons—accidentally joins the impoverished Dustfallen sect. The sect that even bandits did not want to waste time on was actually hid great talents, concealing a huge secret! You look down on my sect? Then that’s your ignorance!

In Widow Village, by a stroke of fate, one gains the inheritance of a divine physician. From then on, every endeavor becomes successful, indulging freely in the joys of life.

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.”