The Reincarnated Vampire Wants an Afternoon Nap - Chapter 154

I became a mage character from my favorite game.

Being taken away of all his freedom, Noah was thrown into the jail accused of a murder he hadn't committed.

This incident broke his personality permanently, getting out of the jail Noah started living as a shut-in giving up at everything.

Noah read novels as a mean to pass his time, while reading novels an particular novel caught his eyes, it's name was 'the hero of velveric fights the demon lord'

'It's a harem novel......'

That was what Noah had thought in the beginning but, it all changed at the end of the novel.

'What the Hell's with this crazy novel!'

The protagonist and all his harem members were killed and in the end the demon Lord took over the world.

It was then, after finishing reading the novel, Noah started coughing out blood and succumbed to his lung disease.

Opening his eyes Noah found himself in a body of a 8 year old kid of the Melvix family which appeared in that crazy novel.

He was known as the garbage of the Melvix family by all the knights and family members but that didn't matter to Noah. What matter is that-

'It's impossible to survive in the novel if you are not strong enough......'

The fallen Sky Knight was the sky's tears,and with altitude still at hand, he wouldn't give up,Blood and Fire and Iron descended from the heavens,Behold, the heavens were crying!The roaring soul was rising through the sky!!!

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.”