I Became A Flashing Genius At The Magic Academy - Chapter 242: The Witch (10)

“I'll take this child.” Sold to the Wudang Sect's outer martial arts training hall for three silver coins at a young age, Kwak Yeon dreams of mastering supreme martial arts. But can he overcome the needle-sized gateway barely permitted to trainee instructors and rise to become a disciple of the main sect? “A true gentleman cannot stand idle in the face of injustice!” Thus begins Kwak Yeon's unyielding journey through the martial world, following the ruthless principle of “Kill Buddha, Kill Ancestors”—destroying all obstacles in his path!

“There are no heroes. In life, the monsters win.”

...

In 2106, [Mayhem Online], a fully immersive VRMMO game, was released. Soon, it dominated the world's economy when people could exchange the in-game currency with real-life currency and vice versa.

In the year 2107, Flynn Grey, a 22-year-old college dropout with an ambiguous history, joined in the fray of billions of people that had already started playing [Mayhem]. Hoping to uncover the game's secret and earn a fortune, he spent months on adventures without fruitful results.

For better or worse, Shura, Flynn's in-game character, ends up in a great Wyvern's den, acquiring a hidden class and a monstrous race. Join him as he defeats his past and paves his way into becoming a true legend in both worlds.

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.”