MTL - You Can’t Be Fierce Towards Me! - Chapter 53

Reminiscent of no mere illusion within a world of urban supernatural abilities, the art of magic herein is one of rigorous objectivity and precision!The Magician's Code:1. Unwavering belief in science2. Never perform magic in front of muggles3. Never break the magician personaRemember, if someone asks, tell them it's sleight of hand, that magic is surely a farce, a complete farce!One day, Jiang Shu discovers he can gain corresponding supernatural abilities through his magic performances. Thus, on stage, he believes in science, but off stage, he strikes with mighty blows.Simple magic tricks, solving minor mysteries, this is the ordinary day-to-day life of an average magician in a cyberpunk world.(This cyberpunk setting has no direct connection with any game and doesn't present any barriers to reading)(This story includes logical reasoning, magical detective work, magic analysis, and a light-hearted everyday routine, all of which will be featured.)

Let her shout out: “Oh handsome and sweet-talking Tokyo gentleman, I must have you. You are mine!”This is the story of how a boy from Iwate Prefecture became a Tokyo gentleman.

I was a genius in the Earthen Plane.

The year was 2026, and the world wasn't what it used to be. Ever since the Abyss Gates cracked open three years ago, spilling monsters and dungeons across the planet, life had turned into a chaotic mess. Cities were half-ruined, half-rebuilt, and people clung to whatever normalcy they could find. Hunters—those brave or crazy enough to fight the monsters—became the new heroes. Everyone else? Well, they just tried to survive.Fin wasn't a Hunter. He wasn't a hero either.He was just… Fin. A lanky 19-year-old with messy brown hair, a chipped front tooth from a dumb skateboard accident, and a power that everyone called useless. Absorption. Sounds cool, right? Like he could suck up energy or steal someone's strength. Nope. All it did was let him “feel” things he touched a little more than normal. He could tell you the exact texture of a brick wall or how warm a coffee mug was—big whoop. No fireballs, no super strength, no flashy moves. Just a glorified touchy-feely trick.“Fin, you gonna eat that sandwich or just stare at it like it's gonna confess its life story?” Meg's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.He blinked and looked across the rickety table at his best friend. Meg was short, loud, and had a wild mop of dyed purple hair that she swore made her look “intimidating.” It didn't.