Global Awakening: Only I Know Future Information - Chapter 339 - 263: Strange Aura, Land of Ascension, No One Dares Provoke

“Wait... Where am I and... who am i?”Just after he thought he was successfully betrayed and killed by his most favored surbodinate. Taylor finds himself on the floor of a remote alley“Don't tell me I got reincarnated?” Hutton muttered with a look of disbelief on his face.P.S; Join the novel discord server for any announcements or questions and answers sections

A person from our world is transported into the universe of the Avatar animated series. The protagonist's adventures begin in the Spirit World, in a form familiar to this world.“So this is the afterlife. It's not what I imagined. Strangely, my memory remains, but it feels one-sided—all the information is impersonal. No name, no loved ones, as if they never existed. I remember being a middle-aged man when, for some unknown reason, I ended up here. My entire life flashed before my eyes, but the emotions I once felt are gone...”Покорение стихий by EvopalanTranslated with LLMNote: when translated terms like magic / mage / magician were used instead of bending / bender / and chiI'm going through fixing the issueIf you want to support me and get exclusive transitions check out my patreon.com/PHINJO just getting started more to come.Planning on making creating an audio series for the fanfic.

The summer I was 17. A painting I created was sold. For 1.4 billion won.

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.”