I Become A Burdensome Child After Transmigrating - Chapter 1164 - 1164 The Best Father

“You're worth a single arrow.”The first immersive virtual MMORPG, The Legend Enigma Online, has conquered the game market! There's not even one person who hasn't heard or seen this game's beautiful and vast magical world overflowing with monsters.Everyone wanted to play this game and be a part of history!Conjuring magic, wielding enormous swords, and even flying across the skies are possible in this game! Guns, arrows? Those are boring compared to this!Jake, however, was compelled to think differently.When the archery became abandoned and forgotten, he took this class and swore to prove others wrong, all because he likes to go against the mainstream!With the bow in his hand, Jake finds passion, talent, and excitement in archery, but will that be enough against the challenges the world keeps for him?It's not only the players that find archery weaker than magic. After the dawn of mana, which happened over two hundred years ago, even NPCs prefer magic over bows.While the other classes have been developed so much by NPCs that players have many luxuries to pick from, the archery is now a mere shadow of its past.That's only the tip of the iceberg of the future Supreme Archer's difficulties!“No matter whatever it is and how long it takes, I'll take everything on and get my archery to the top! The archery where I'm the master and artisan of my bows and arrows, the tailor of my equipment, and pioneer of my own skills!”Hard work, talent, bitter defeats, and uproarious victories–none of it is foreign to Jake!

Science and magic exist side by side in this world.

This is the peak of the science side with a curriculum for espers, Academy City. In this city where 80% of the population are students, the season has finally come when all residents are excited and fidgety!

It’s Christmas Eve.

Amidst the city showing a cheerful hustle and bustle, ordinary boy who can’t keep up with school, Kamijou Touma, also doesn’t intend to miss this event! He was hard at work in his supplementary lessons…

A backward glance from the default misfortune-prone bastard, the silver-haired sister freeloading in his dormitory, Index, in the heart pounding scene different from the usual, activates a new gluton skill!? While Kamijou tries to desperately stop that, Misaka Mikoto taken in by the Christmas Eve atmosphere appears before him.

Valhǫll, a fantasy game with a touch of modernity.I thought I’d give it one last try with the rewards of achievements.I acquired extraordinary traits like [Death Avoidance], [Ironman], [Winds], traits I wouldn’t have chosen in ordinary circumstances.But I should have never started.I fell into a game where reaching the ending seemed impossible.With the body of an orphan wandering the market alleys.[Devil’s Blood], [Worst Condition], [Eccentric Actions], [Mysophobia].Plus burdened with hidden penalty traits.“Damn it.”Can I survive?No. I must survive, no matter what it takes.

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.”