King of Kung Fu in School - Chapter 457 Freshman Competition 08

Encountering a car crash, the King of Silver Screen, Ye Sinian, was bound to a Cannon Fodder Counterattack System.

After reincarnating for hundreds of lives, he has finally earned enough “travel expenses” to go back home.

However, he didn’t think that the system would suddenly malfunction, making returning back home from then on hopeless.

With the shackles of a millennium broken, Ye Sinian aggressively counterattacked!

Reversing fates while hugging the mentally ill* Lord Seme, he walked towards the apex of humanity!

*Mentally ill – Schizophrenic

- Description from Novelupdates

Western VRMMO【DEMONDAL】was known for its extremely harsh game system. To begin with, there were no levels. There were no skills. There were no guilds. There was no inventory. There were no convenient system messages or maps of any kind either. It was so needlessly realistic that it was already basically a VR life simulator.

As for anything game-like, it was basically limited to weapon masteries; a proficiency level that you got from using your weapon, as well as physical strength that increased as well. That was it.

It was a fantasy game so there was magic, but forming a contract with a spirit was extremely difficult, and only 1% of the playerbase were magicians.

In this VR game【DEMONDAL】that was ridiculously close to reality, the protagonist Kei who was a well known mounted archery expert, was one day sent to another world with his Russian【DEMONDAL】friend.

The game that was severe to begin with had turned into a reality, and the harshness increased again――

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.”

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?”