MTL - Watch Me Eat Fish, It’s Exciting! - Chapter 85 Escape or rigid?

Why is it “Hero” that “Savior” that? Why is it always the same happy ending? “Happy” “Good” “Perfect” endings? You know what? SCREW IT. I will give you all the worst possible ending possible? Why? Because I’m an asshole!

In her former life, she was robbed of her status, her looks, and her reputation.

Of the ancient gods only one remained in the world. This god lived alone for thousands of years and no longer had any desires. Legend had it that during the great war between the worlds he used his powers to turn the tide managing to seal the cataclysmic rift bringing order back into the three realms. Time flew by and hundreds of years passed in the blink of an eye.

In this time Shen Li was born into the demon world. Known as the Azure Sky King she was used to living a bright and dazzling life full of successes. Little did she know that her 1000th birthday would bring misfortune to her doorstep – a politically arranged marriage with her name on it. The Azure Sky King would henceforth marry the thirty-third grandson of the Heavenly Emperor, Fu Rongjun. This arranged marriage was meant to unite the Heavenly realm with the Demonic Realm, bringing the two together. Most would consider it good fortune to be related to the Emperor.

Unfortunately Fu Rongjun was infamous throughout the two realms for his Casanova personality. As the King who called the shots in the Demonic Realm, she had the ability to quell uprisings and end wars with a swing of her silver spear – there was absolutely no way she would marry such a flirtatious idiot. She had to escape from this marriage somehow even if it meant death!

In her escape Shen Li, never expected to meet a man that didn’t belong to any of the three realms. This oddball was truly strange!

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”