MTL - Pretend To Be a Boss - Chapter 67 You were born human and I'm sorry (two in one

A man who was once called the world’s strongest agent ended up becoming a teacher after his retirement, to train a new generation of agents. After many years of training his disciples, he was killed at the age of 60 by a secret organization’s ruse and was reincarnated in another world with his memories intact. Though he was surprised by the existence of magic and the strange species in that world, he quickly adapted to his condition as a newborn and took advantage of it. He acquired special magic and gained a massive amount of strength thanks to his rigorous discipline, in order to reach his goal: Resume his career as a teacher which he left halfway through in his previous life. This is the story of a man, who, based on the memories and the experiences of his previous life, became a teacher who travels through the world with his students.

“Are you going to shoot me, baby?““Don“t tempt me.“.He killed her parents and left her orphaned. She lived all her life building her strength. She had one mission: revenge. Kill Anthony Murray at all costs. When she is assigned to go undercover and destroy his organization will she be able to keep herself from destroying him or will she jump in front of the bullets that are shot hi...

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.”