MTL - Transmigrating Into a Dog Licking His Father, I Am the Protagonist of Destiny - Chapter 698

You know the drill, a medical student was watching the finale episode of Pokemon. “Man can't believe it's finally over. Looking at his clock, Shoot I'm going to be late.” But our protagonist met our old friend Truck-kun due to a change in destiny. “At least things aren't so bad I get to start my Journey, wait why am I Ash, Why is almost everything and everyone different, and why is this world so much harder than the original?!”Additional Tags: Maybe-Harem, Not stupid MC, multiple plot lines, Random decisions from dice rollsNo dead pokemon parts to increase strengthNo potential stuffOnly training methods and bond________________________So hey, this is my first fanfic, Please don't murder me, secondly, this is an AU with anime, games, and manga elements, with a bit of the novel. Earlier chapters are ruff, but I think the later ones get better.Also if you have a complaint, Idea, criticism, or whatever, fell free to say it I love reading feedback from you all

Accompanied by all kinds of crisis and despair, was the arrival of mankind’s first significant superhero.

On just another normal school day, while 16-year-old Drake Wilson drives his two best friends, Mike and Chad, to school, an unexpected twist of fate occurs in the form of a cat. When a cat runs across the road, Drake narrowly misses it, and his car ends up driving into a nearby field. With a sudden storm, a flash of light explodes, creating a dimensional portal in front of them. There is nothing they could do to stop the car from entering the portal. On the other side, they find themselves in another dimension filled with magic and power. To Drake, the place looks familiar because it is the starting point of his new game called “Dimension Master.”

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.”