Super Soldier King - Chapter 172 A valiant person doesn’t have to explain (2)

Our straight (?) bottom woke up ten years into the future and found himself on the bed of his childhood friend… At the start, the bottom was shocked to his very bones, but he soon quickly accepted this premise and found the whole situation to be rather amusing. Precisely then, the bottom once again went back to his timeline — back to when he and the top were just platonic childhood friends.

The story follows Matt, a young man planning to delve the rifts responsible for the monsters that destroyed his city and killed his parents. His dreams are crushed when his Tier 1 Talent is rated as detrimental, and no guild or group will take him.Working at a nearby inn, he meets a mysterious and powerful couple. They give him a chance to join The Path of Ascension, an empire wide race to ascend the Tiers and become living legends.With their recommendation and a stolen skill, Matt begins his journey to the peak of power.

“If magic is power, then I'll build my own.” - Adrian.When a genius tech developer dies from overworking, he awakens in a world ruled by magic, ancient empires, and mythical beasts.But unlike the natives who manipulate elemental mana, he is granted a mysterious technology system that lets him reconstruct modern and futuristic tech.Armed with the knowledge of his old world and this game-like system, he begins to revolutionize the magic world. But his rise threatens the very foundation of society, drawing the attention of kings, mages, and forbidden powers that ought not to be offended.As nations clash and secrets unfold, one question remains:Can technology coexist with magic… or will one destroy the other?

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.”