MTL - Rebirth into an Interstellar Marriage - Chapter 142

This is a story of Xia An, a transmigrator from the end of the world, who transmigrates into the body of a cannon fodder who was the mother of the villain.

- Description from Wattpad

After dying, Chen Heng finds that he has transmigrated to an alternate reality: everything is the same, except the world is now a Wuxia world heavily influenced by martial arts! Not only this, he discovers that he has a Fantasy Simulator, from which he obtains rewards that make him incredibly powerful in his new reality as well. Martial arts, immortal cultivation, and overpowered abilities–all of this begins from a single simulation!

When a normal human suddenly dies and enters another world with the almighty cheat, their very own system, what do you think would happen?

They will rise above every other being and soar the skies, for they will become an unstoppable force that brushes through the entire world, causing waves... Or so it normally goes, right?

After Victor dies, he did get transmigrated, but it wasn't as a rich young master or some character with unfathomable potential. NO. He woke up as a random dungeon mob in another world...

Read to follow Victor's journey through his new life as a mob.

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.”