Strange Grief Wants to Retire ~ The Weakest Hunter Dreams of a Hero ~ - Chapter 442.2: Under Suspension

This novel is a blend of the anime Oregairu, focusing on Hachiman Hikigaya as our main character, and Classroom of the Elite, intertwined with a sweet romance. Give it a read and decide whether to continue based on your experience!

Suzuki, an adult programmer, suddenly notices that he’s been thrown into a different world while wearing a casual clothes at level 1. He gained high levels and treasures after using the 3 times use-disposable-magic, Meteor Shower, once. After that he intends to do different world “sightseeing tours”? He meets 3 beast girls, beautiful purple and black haired sisters, and an eccentric blonde haired elf girl along with various people during his trip. Although there are occasional fighting with demons and demon lords, this is a heartwarming fantasy story at heart.

Honjou Kaede was invited by her friend, Shiromine Risa to play a VRMMO.I don’t hate games, but painful things are a little……no, I hate it very, very much.Eh!…the pain would be reduced if I placed stats on defense power?Then, the only place where I can place it, is there right? Right?Solidly fortify everything into defense, now here I come!

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.”