Assassin at Range: The Sniper's Lethal Power - Chapter 73 - : Taking Stock of the Loot

I never imagined this would happen to me. Reincarnation? A second chance? Into a fictional world, no less? It was the stuff of wild stories, impossible dreams, and late-night “what ifs.” But life has a funny way of playing with your expectations.When the choice was offered—life as I knew it or a chance to die and be reborn somewhere else—how could I say no? The catch? I wouldn’t return to just any world. No peaceful afterlife, no utopia waiting for me. Instead, I landed in the heart of chaos.Here I am, standing in the shadows of giants—of gods, heroes, and monsters. Welcome to the Marvel universe, where cities are playgrounds for battles that could shake the world, and everyday people like me are nothing but collateral damage.But I’m not just another face in the crowd anymore. Somehow, I’ve got a role to play. My name in this world is Dave Garcia, and this is the story of how an ordinary guy from another life navigates a place where the impossible is an everyday reality.What would you do if you woke up in a world where the fate of everything could be changed with a snap of the fingers? Because that’s exactly what I’m trying to figure out.

Bags of salt, spices and sugar stacked from inside the shop all the way out into the streets. Merchants loaded with goods going flooded the streets with their carriages.

Karl awoke to find himself shockingly reduced to a crippled Evil God confined within a bottle.The Fischer family had inadvertently become his favored members, sharing a fate connected by blood throughout the generations.They established a secret clan, infiltrated the state, manipulated wars, ascended the God Pantheon stairway, and fought for the honor and future of the family.They were assassins lurking in the shadows, beloved scholars, esteemed priests, powerful dukes, and legends in heroic epics.From budding to robust growth, steampunk evolved; the Spirit Realm descended through dreams; witches and ancient gods stepped forth, and people listened to the lost whispers at their ears.They were both the creators and the enders of stories.Generation after generation, in a continuous succession, they marched forward.“Step over my corpse and go on,” he said.