MTL - Returning From Level 900 - Chapter 28 No. 1 in the world, invincible in the world

He was confused, so he asked, “I have a car, a house, good-looks and money. What am I lacking in?”

Leon, a man who tragically died of exhaustion due to his sister's otome game, unexpectedly finds himself reincarnated as a young aristocrat named Leon Bartfort. However, he soon realizes that he is not alone in this body. Another mysterious entity already resides there, its voice echoing in his mind.Who is this second consciousness? Is it a friend, an enemy, or something far more sinister? Will they be able to come to an agreement to share control over the body, or will a fierce struggle for dominance ensue? Or perhaps their interactions will lead to unforeseen consequences?Intrigued? Then start reading!

Yan Lan follows her mother's dying wish to hide her countless identities and live a low-key life.Who would have thought that one night, her sister Yan Xue has a dream about a broken wealthy family, and upon waking, steals her beloved and forces her to go on a blind date in her place.Yan Lan: Go for the blind date immediately, the match is the prince of the capital's elite circle.The sister waits and waits, expecting Yan Lan to follow her old path and become an abandoned wife of a wealthy family, but finally she receives news...Late at night, Yan Lan returns home after a quarrel.The former true love: Brother, I have a stomachache, can you come to see me?The new wealthiest and prince: Block and delete in one go, don't disturb me while I pack my small bag to sleep on the floor at my wife's place!

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.”