Apocalypse: Zombie King is the Female Lead's Younger Sister - Chapter 225: Familiar Weapon

Zend Wolfled, a fallen nobleman known to the world as the most hated man in the world. And the main villain in a famous romantic fantasy novel.He was feared and hated because of what Zend had done so far without knowing what caused Zend to do these things.Zend has a secret that the world doesn't know that he is a Reincarnator and Tranmigrator. Zend knows that he is a villain character from a romantic fantasy novel, but he lives on his own terms.In the end, Zend only lived as a name labeled a villain by the whole world.Until the day comes, Zend was the last human to survive the appearance of The Evil One.The Evil One and The Angel saw the potential in Zend and sent Zend back to time Zend younger, second change-In this life, Zend will be the hero and villain of this romantic novel once again. Zend will engage with this entire world. Meet Transmigration, Reincarnated, 7 Sins, 12 Color, 6 disaster and Apostle.Zend Wolfled regret, hatred, anger, sadness and revenge will begin once again...

To correct the mistakes of his past, a young man is forced to narrow the space between science and witchcraft, as he ventures on a quest to save his world from complete destruction.

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.”