Cultivation Online - Chapter 1955: Underwater City

The heroine I was rooting for was not chosen.

Then wouldn’t it be okay if I made her happy instead?The heroine I was rooting for was not chosen.

Then wouldn’t it be okay if I made her happy instead?

I’ve entered a hidden route in a failed game.And now, I have to become a false prophet.There’s no other choice.Since it’s come to this, I’ll become the greatest false prophet on the continent.

After getting betrayed by his love, Michael was granted another chance to rewrite all his past mistakes.In a world ruled by AI virtual reality game, granting everyone with random life times on their wrist which determine their lives on planet earth, if your life times got to zero that is the end of your life.With no way to gain life times, more than half of the world joined the AI Virtual Reality game.This game is not like your common game you played on your phones, PC, or tablet.The game throws the players in a world where they'll have to fight either monsters or other players, if you die you die for real. No next life, no second chance, if you survive and be the last winner standing you win life times and other valuables.It all up to luck and skills.Then out of the blue the gods appeared, and unfortunately; Not all gods wants the continuation of the human race.Will Michael work together with his friends and family to stop the gods?Or will he work alone to show the gods why he's called Supreme?Let's find out.

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.”