Cultivation Begins with Skill Points - Chapter 6 Arson and Murder

“Your stats are lower than that of your average person.”

The weakest by a mile among the otherworldlers of class 1-A, Takatsuki Makoto.

The Heroes and Sages who had cheat skills in his class had went off, and the base set lifespan is 10 years?

The Great Demon Lord is going to revive soon?

I am a Mage Apprentice?

Isn’t the balance way too bad? This damn Isekai is a tr*sh game!

“Want to be my believer?”, the Goddess that told me this has zero believers!

Aah, this is bad…I don’t think I can clear this. The Goddess with zero believers is an incredible beauty, and she is telling me she is imprisoned somewhere and is waiting to be saved. My last and hardest mission is to save the Goddess.

Clearing this Isekai that only has adversities, the story of the weakest mage.

Don't buy EX rank privilege tier this month.

[I will fill all the privilege tier chapters this month so don't worry.]

..

At the tender age of 14, a seemingly random but prodigious student experienced an extraordinary awakening of his talent. This momentous event also coincided, whether by fate or design, with the resurgence of his memories from a past life.

Yet, these newly recovered memories brought an overwhelming despair. He realized that he had been living as a mere extra character in the popular 'Return as Strongest Player' novel.

In a twist of fate, he discovered the activation of an enigmatic 'Another System,' adding an even deeper layer of complexity to his predicament.

How would an extra character navigate such a dire threat to his very existence?

As he braved these trials and tribulations, he unraveled a mystery surrounding the cryptic 'Another System.'

But the greatest surprise still awaited him – a revelation that would not only shed light on the truth behind his reincarnation but also unveil the grand machinations of the Primordial God.

The question remained, what lay beyond this earth-shattering revelation?

……………………………………………………………

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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.”