MTL - Emulator: Opening Talent Super Gigolo - Chapter 224 , Wan Yao licks the dog

I, Asahi was just a filthy rich young master who died? But why I am following the plotline of a third rate novel? Why is this Goddess named Cliche? And wait, this didn't end there. I'm also getting this great system for fulfilling my fantasies.

FIRST WORLD: HIGH SCHOOL OF THE DEAD.

SECOND WORLD: Irregular In A Magic High School

THIRD WORLD: High School DxD

FOURTH WORLD: Danmachi

Features: A mc who never rapes.

“I hesitated before, I turned back to face my shred of hope, yet still no one cared.”“Later the thick fog arose, you said you loved me so much, but why is your love even fainter than the fog, so faint that I can’t even see it clearly.”

I came from hell, looking for redemption! –“Revelation”
…………
What is redemption?
I think it should be a process in which a good person becomes bad and then becomes good again.
It’s like our clean birth, contaminated by the dust of one life, and then clean death.
Well, this is just a story. …

- Description from Uukanshu

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.”