A God Killed Me By Accident, But I Reincarnated As The 4th Son Of The Marquis - Chapter 56Volume 2 An Angel!

A crownless king in the world of gods.Akamir had unrivaled strength, wealth, and prestige in a realm governed by martial ability.Yet one mistake cost him his life.When Akamir awakened in the fragile body of a disgraced noble’s son,he found himself in a world steeped in mana, ancient artifacts, and gods who watched from above—A world shaped by otherworlders summoned thousands of years ago.But the longer he lived in this new reality, the more he noticed its abnormalities.“I am a villain?”A world with a predetermined path.“...In a romance fantasy game and novel?”He had become the anomaly.

“I love you, Brys,” Storm whispered.“Love?” I scoffed. “Do you even know what love is?” I raised a brow at him.“Of course, I do. I love you, Brys,” he repeated as he leaned closer to kiss me. “I've had feelings for—”The words died on his lips. His eyes grew wide in shock as blood spluttered from his lips. “Wh... What did you just do?” His gaze went down to the knife I drove deep into his chest.“What's wrong, Storm?” I smirked. “Don't you love me anymore?” I mocked.Though it hurts me to do what I did, I had to do so, for my safety.If I don't kill him now, he won't hesitate to do the same to me, in the future...*****Mega, a nerd who is obsessed with reading novels and comics, ended up reading a comic that sent his blood boiling. He cursed the omega in the book who was so pitiful that the Alpha used him only to kill him when he felt the omega was useless.Unfortunately, Mega had an accident on his way on an errand, and by a sheer stroke of luck, he found himself in the same trashy comic.And what was more?He discovered that he now resides in the body of the omega who was abused by the Alpha he admired.Now, he's determined to turn his fate even if it means going against the plot, and his stupid system.He was determined not to make the same mistake his former host had...

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.”