MTL - Plane Master Copy - Chapter 1020 : The spacecraft carried by Wuyan should be small, right?

An orphan dies while saving a bus full of children. For saving countless lives, the Universe grants him the opportunity to transmigrate to another reality.

There he realizes his dreams of supporting his new family and opening a company that will shake the foundations of this new world. He will be known as the MasterChef of the gods, a superstar singer, the best Mangaka to exist, the best Director, the businessman of the millennium and many other adjectives.

The world of Nyil, with its monsters, its knights and its mildly sociopathic gods. Come and see! A soul flees and a soul arrives, blessed by luck. Will she survive? Will she thrive? Will she become a calamity? After all, luck is such a fickle thing. ‍

He’s the dream guy of women world wide, the CEO of a formidable mega-corporation. But, he’s absolutely powerless against her, resorting to all kinds of methods to force her into a marriage, tying her to his side with a certficiate.

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.”