This Witch Transmigrated into the Romantic Novel's Supporting Role - Chapter 258: Birth

The world ended.Zombies and monsters rose. Cities crumbled.And Merek? He woke up in the apocalypse with a job that lets him create armor for lingering souls—spirits without bodies, desperate for purpose.Turns out, the dead don’t rest easy. Some are angry. Some vengeful. Others? Just lost. When Merek binds them into steel warframes, they don’t just fight... they evolve.Now, he leads a legion of the undead—ghosts in armor, bound to him by oath and fate.Faction leaders call him mad. Warlords want him dead. And God? If He’s watching, He’s not talking.Merek was supposed to die with everyone else.Instead, he got a support type job no one’s heard of... and a shot at rewriting his pathetic Earth-life.In this world, only the fittest survive.And Merek? He’s got undeads in steel at his side.

I became a ghost in the horror game [Mystery Exploration Club ~Summer Vacation Nightmare~]. Give me back my body.Translator’s summary:Han Yoo-hee is an unlucky man who fell into the world of a horror game and became the tutorial boss.Now, wanting to go back, he will guide the protagonist and her group through the game and achieve the ending, confronting many different monsters and finding more about the truth of this world.

What does “being perfect” mean to you? To Hashidate Yuuto, it means everything. All his life long he strived for perfectness until a single incident occured in middle school that ruined his plans of being perfect: He pooped in front of the whole class and parents. Believing, that his reputation was destroyed and that he would never be able to reach perfectness anymore, he wished that the incident never occured. This is when a mysterious Goddess named Maki offers him a button that allows him to go back in time.

Based on the popular Vocaloid song “” by kemu.

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.”