Diary of a Dead Wizard - Chapter 505: The Eye of Banishment

Haruma Kazuki is a cursed (or maybe just deeply unfortunate) high school student whose lewd, panicked, or absurd thoughts literally manifest in reality — especially when he tries not to think about them. The more he denies or avoids feelings, the more chaotic and trope-heavy the consequences.

The obsessed Big Brother, the loyal God, the yandere Vampire, the cold Honor’s Student…

When a grand variety of Prince Charmings arrive continuously, what should a person feel like? Luo Liyan held her poor aching waist, raised her head to the skies and sighed, give them to whoever wants them!

“What, want to run after seducing me?” That man with strong possessiveness approached little by little, trapping her in a corner. “Little Yan, what type do you like? I can always satisfy you, as long as you stay at my side!”

Looking at that man who seemed more devilish the more he smiled, Luo Liyan trembled as she hugged herself.

Cries… So terrifying. Who the hell forcefully gave and took like this guy?

- Description from Novelupdates

– Question: “What is scarier than the personal experience of transmigrating into a horror movie?”

Anonymous: “Transmigrating into a movie you’ve never seen before.”

– “Poor comment! There’s nothing scary about that!”

Anonymous reply: “You sure? Can you be sure your dad isn’t a murderer? Can you be certain your spouse isn’t out to kill you for insurance money? Can you even be certain there isn’t any hidden lethal weapon in your son’s lunchbox? The scariest thing is that you have never seen this movie before so, you have absolutely no idea of any ‘surprise’ that awaits you ahead!”

Hence, this novel is also called .

A line to sum it up: The female lead transmigrates into various movie adaptations of real stories, and conquers the audience.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”