MTL - Star Rank Hunter - Chapter 249 Not at the same level

Klaus had spent his entire existence as a puppet, bound by the strings of fate. However, a miraculous turn of events granted him a fresh start. The remnants of his former constraints smoldered in the ashes of his past. Now, unshackled and determined, he resolved to forge his destiny according to his own desires. No one, not even a deity, would be spared if they dared obstruct his path. Klaus was ready to wield the sword of vengeance and carve his own fate in the annals of history.

Light and color, sound and scent;Clothing, food, shelter, transportation, smartphones, computers;Burning, freezing, friction, explosion, thunder, rain, growth, decay;All material changes and chemical phenomena;Our bodies, our thoughts, our world—were all built upon electromagnetic interactions!Whoever could control electromagnetic forces, they would be the tyrant who dominated the world!However, electromagnetism is too profound for us, so let us start by learning how to “Discharge”...

Elaine is ripped from this world to Pallos, a land of unlimited possibilities made real by a grand System governing classes, skills, and magic.An ideal society? What is this, a fantasy novel?Adventures? Right this way!A Grand quest? Nah.Friends and loot? Heck yes!Humans are the top dog? Nope, dinosaur food.Healing and fighting? Well, everything is trying to eat her.Join Elaine as she travels around Pallos, discovering all the wonders and mysteries of the world, trying to find a place where she belongs, hunting those elusive mangos, all while the ominous Dragoneye Moons watch her every move.

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.”