Primitive Man - Chapter 236: A red sky

What if Midoriya Izuku stayed quirkless? What if he could become a hero without any powers? Or even more shocking—what if he became the successor to All For One?

My surname is Wu, and everyone calls me Little Wu.I've seen those Mobile Battle Armors deep underground that surpass human imagination,and I've also witnessed someone in the asteroid belt of space punch a star to pieces with a single Fist.Buddy, listen up, here are some of my fight insights:When fighting the Dragon Clan, don't listen to what they say, just keep hitting them until they're dead;Dealing with fairies is a bit tricky, it's best not to let them see you, and to take sneaky shots;When it comes to orcs, there are two words for it, wrestling naked!If a Devil is looking for trouble, just desperately twist its horns, and it's bound to kneel;Alright, I'm off to fight in a bar now, more detailed content when I get back.

At nineteen, Dexter was already one of the world’s most celebrated authors. His books topped charts. Critics praised his genius. Fans devoured every word. But behind the acclaim was a lonely boy—raised without parents, love, or real friends—just stories.He published his first novel at fourteen. By seventeen, he was a literary star. But the higher he rose, the hollower it felt.Then came the writer’s block. The headaches. The blackout. And the transmigration.Dexter awoke in the body of Daylan, a disgraced young man in a crumbling, medieval world laced with steampunk tech, divine law, and political unrest. Daylan had already failed two of the three sacred Trials—rites that determine one’s magical potential. He was drowning in debt, entangled in plots to overthrow a corrupt Divine Church, and branded a lost cause.With no way back, Dexter took the final Trial—the most brutal of them all—and began a path that would earn him the whispered title: Soldier, Poet, King.But as his powers grew, one question haunted him: Did he truly die? And if so, who—or what—chose to bring him back?

drop out of school

When I got home, I reopened the blacksmith shop.

From then on, this blacksmith shop was no longer ordinary.

The best knives in the world are born here.

The thrust-to-weight ratio of the handmade micro-turbojet directly exploded.

The micro-drones flourished in his hands.

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