MTL - Mr. Zhou’s Little Cutie - Chapter 814 814

High school student Mikoshiba Ryouma was summoned to a different world in the middle of a war. Sensing the malice from the one who summoned him (a summoner of the O’ltormea empire), he uses his martial arts to run away, killing important people of the empire during his escape. After the escape, he rescues two twin sisters from the hands of thieves. The sisters who can use magic, swear to serve him as subordinates. Thus, Ryouma begins his journey on the path of the supreme ruler.

“I Possessed the Academy’s Silver-Rank Examiner.”I was on the verge of becoming someone who’d be pushed around by students left and right…◎ [Silver Gatekeeper]“No one can pass without the Gatekeeper’s permission.”I awakened an absurdly overpowered trait.TN: This novel follows a protagonist who becomes a rank examiner, tasked with evaluating students at an academy to determine whether they are worthy of advancing from Bronze to Silver rank. Known as the Silver Gatekeeper, he has the authority to decide which students can progress. As a gatekeeper, he possesses overpowered abilities, making him powerful when fighting on the examination field.

I was transmigrated into a work I liked and finally came back.But after, I was dragged into an Academy Romance Novel, which I skipped over after only reading the prologue.There I found a half-broken possessors who regressed endlessly.

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.”