MTL - The World of Gods Rises From the Zerg - Chapter 1491 Dream Creature Riot

“After every fire, ants survive.”

…

Mysterious anomalous biological metals have polluted the world, and the world has undergone tremendous changes. Metal sickness is like a key that opens the door to evolution. Under the tide of evolution, there are no innocents.

The choice is up to you, do you want to be the surviving ants after the fire, or do you want to risk your life, step on the glorious long steps to the gods, and glimpse the supreme glory of the mother goddess?

…

Touch the totem in your heart, follow the inspiration, and step on the long steps of ascending to God:

[Amphibians] → [Atlantic Glory] → [Ningen]…

[Eight Arms] → [Nightmare in the Sea] → [Deep Divers]…

[Eagle Eye] → [Owl Ghost of the Night] → [Jersey Demon]…

[Living Dead] → [Grave Digger] → [Death Ferryman]…

…

“On that day, the world was polluted, and I was the source of pollution. Human desires are endless, desire is the best food on the way to evolution, and I am the embodiment of desire.”

– Joe Tour.

- Description from novelbuddy

“Dear, it's time for your medicine!”The beautiful and pure Holy Daughter brought over the medicine for treating his wounds.On this day, he saw betrayal with his own eyes and experienced despair with his soul...From this day forth, the Hero was dead, send paper offerings if you must!

I possessed the weakest character in my favorite game’s Hell Mode. I want to survive, but the way the main character is being controlled is atrocious.

It can’t be helped.

I have to stop the bad ending myself.

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.”