MTL - Mediterranean Hegemon of Ancient Greece - Chapter 12 Help?

The moment when mercenary leader Kwang Hwi receives video game like abilities, the world is suddenly thrown into chaos. A thick fog envelops the Earth, bringing with it savage, otherworldly monsters. At the same time humanity has been rendered defenseless against this onslaught, as the strange fog turns most weapons to rust. With mankind spiraling towards oblivion, it is up to Kwang Hwi, with his new abilities, to save the world. Watch as Kwang Hwi leads his militia and becomes the last bastion of humanity. Will he be this world’s savior, or its conqueror?

Zhou Heng thought the news of an impending solar flare and natural disasters was absurd—until he died in the apocalyptic chaos that followed. Reborn ten days before the end begins, Zhou Heng now knows the truth: earthquakes, tsunamis, plagues, and even zombies will devastate the Earth.Armed with the Doomsday Sanctuary System, he has a chance to rewrite his fate, but there’s a catch—it requires a shelter to activate.With only ten days left, can Zhou Heng gather the resources, fortify his sanctuary, and prepare for the storm of humanity’s collapse?

I was a failed experiment

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.”