MTL - Cute Beast Store No. 138 - ~ Chapter 13

Back in 1998, an ordinary person who has been through, tired, cried, and fought, hopes to run down-to-earth and keep up with the trend of the times.

- Description from novelbuddy

At his best friend’s memorial service, Bai Yan almost burst out laughing and got beaten to death.

Along the way, Bai Yan’s fits of laughter turned into ones of anger. His joy quickly turned to sorrow as he met his punishment that night.

He curiously opened the app that he had never seen before on his phone and was suddenly pulled into a terrifying world of reincarnation…

An infinite stream of horror flowed into his mind, ominous descriptions, breakthroughs, and storylines.

The main character should not be taken lightly. Be careful if you dare!

Jiu Xuan Xian Zunlin also unfortunately encountered the legendary dragon attack when he was robbed and thundered. He returned to his youth and became a high school student Lin Yi. He also found his left hand position and was sealed with a dragon..

Since then, Lin has stood in a new world with a strong attitude, punching the old tyrannical gangsters, kicking and defeating the family.

As a result, a strong newcomer rises and officially opens.

- Description from Uukanshu (translated)

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.”