Ascension Of The Villain - Chapter 355: I’m Okay With That

When disaster strikes, all order collapses, money becomes meaningless paper, and discussions about order lose their significance. The only assurance that remains is power. And I, possessing power, can do as I please.In this post-apocalyptic world, besides growing stronger, Li Ming must also deal with the persistent neighbor who continually sends the wife to borrow food.“Ma'am, you can't always request food without offering anything in return, can you?”

Li Changlin, the underdog, was a small-time anchor who, by chance, acquired the Divine Tycoon Development System from Earth, and thus embarked on an awesome journey to become a life-achieving tycoon.

A young boy dies a tragic death and is granted 3 wishes. He chooses to be reborn in MHA with the Telekinesis as his quirk and the potential to achieve Absolute Mastery and Power over his ability.The MC will be overpowered and there will be some dark elements. The novel will be quite realistic in the context of the MHA world. The MC will be cruel to his enemies and kind to those he cares about. There will be romance and potential for a harem of about 3, but not more than 5.I plan to continue with this hopefully until the end of MHA canon.I aim to upload chapters of about 2k words, and I hope people enjoy this fanfic. I'm open to any suggestions and criticism on how I could improve, but please no hate for no reason.The first few chapters are quite dark, but it gets better after that, so please stick around till then.MHA and any of the characters in it do not belong to me.I will try to release a bonus chapter every 1,000 powerstones. Although, it depends on if I have chapters ready.

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.”