The Dread of Damned - Chapter 116: Frustrated

Welcome to Freia. A continent where evil magi ruled. Until firearms came, that is. Now the people live free of those demons…

More, however, must lurk beneath the surface.

Claude, a transmigrator from another world, finds himself in the midst of this changing world, attending ‘middle school’. Or, as he calls it, ‘boot camp’. His destiny was to graduate and join the military, but the future is seldom so simple.

His life, and the world, is set on the path of upheaval and chaos the day he finds a cookbook.

A magical cookbook.

- Description from novelupdates

The world experienced a cataclysmic change, and countless spatial gateways appeared out of thin air.

Exotic beasts of all shapes and sizes swarmed out of those aforementioned spatial gateways, forcing the humans to face the crucial moment for their survival.

In order to search for a chance at survival, brave warriors from the army and scientific researchers risked their lives and entered the world beyond the spatial gateways. To their surprise, they discovered that there was a chance of obtaining beast cards by killing these exotic beasts in their world.

Those with extraordinary spiritual strength are able to utilize the beast cards, perhaps transforming the cards into the beasts’ combat bodies while they were still alive, or transforming them into weapons or defensive gears, or…

A new occupation came into existence following the changes, known as beastmasters.

A transcender with two souls fused into one found himself in this magnificent new world full of waves, rising step by step as he ascends into the seat of a godly beastmaster.

- Description from Novelupdates

Disclaimer: don’t own Minecraft or Percy Jackson

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.”