MTL - Naruto: I Can Only Draw S-rank Rewards - Chapter 15

I am the sword.
Killing a man amidst a thousand miles, no one dares take ten steps.
Killing a man amidst a thousand miles, no one can take ten steps.
Killing a man amidst a thousand miles, ten steps? Not possible!
I am the sword, the sword is me,
On the path towards heaven, each shall wield their own.

In the not-so-distant future, a group of Earthlings find themselves mysteriously transported to the Nexus Realm, a fantastical world besieged by monstrous creatures.With no way out of the craziness, they reluctantly joined forces with the realm's inhabitants to combat the constant threat of these otherworldly beasts.To defend the Nexus or Nexaria, powers were bestowed upon them with the promise of returning home after successfully repelling the monsters dangling before them like a carrot.Years passed, and the initial camaraderie between the heroes slowly began to crumble. Still, the Protagonist, Adrian Fenrir, with his power known as Analysis, played a crucial role in understanding the monsters' patterns and weaknesses. However, as the group became more adept at handling the threats, they grew increasingly independent and, perhaps, arrogant.One day, due to a series of mishaps, Adrian found himself surrounded by assassins. He tried his best to drive them off but failed and met a bitter end. It didn't take long for the assassins to do their work, and as per the contractor's request, they decided to dispose of Adrian's corpse by selling it to a mad scientist known for his experiments with creatures from the Nexaria.In need of a fresh subject for his latest project, the scientist transformed Adrian into a chimaera, a fusion of humans and monsters to be sold as a weapon for war.However, the scientist's plan backfired when Adrian, against all odds, regained consciousness within his chimaera body. Fueled by rage and the memories of his betrayal, Adrian seized control over his new body. Now reborn as a chimaera with the ability to absorb organs and gain the powers of other creatures, Adrian vows vengeance upon the mysterious contractor who sent the assassins for him.Once a battleground against monsters, the Nexaria now witnessed a different kind of conflict—one driven by betrayal, revenge, and the extraordinary powers of a vengeful chimaera.

Annan transmigrated to a new world – the Land of Dense Fog. He had become a rare elite NPC who possessed the player’s system.

However, he had the heart of a player.

I like to stir up matters, and unbridled. But, I’m a kind player. The ally of justice who is favored by this world.

I’m on a main mission. As the righteous player, I’m following my destiny to eradicate you, the evil NPC!

Dear player, I’d recommend you to stop running away. The mission is completed. I’m the righteous NPC now to punish you, the evil players…

—

In the long dark night, the crimson moon hangs high in the sky.

Hoarse whisper patrols the streets. The brass steam engine is emitting blood mist.

Your brain is in ecstasy; your eyes are enchanted.

With cracked skins, it sprouts new flesh.

In the gray mists, shirek cries come from the flesh wall that consumes thousands of corpses…

“Stop crying, our players don’t bite. They just want to play with you.”

The Solitary Schemer, Number 1 Player, Land of Dense Fog’s Savior, Leader of 13 Saints, Friend of 12 Upright Deity, Pioneer King, “The Righteous One,” Gatekeeper of Forth Disaster, Crownless Deity, the great Annan advised kindly.

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.”