Night Without End - Chapter 12 - 7 Encounter_3

This is my first original novel, it may be bad, but this is all in my mind and imagination. (Warning!! There will be an Incest genre) Thank you o⁠(⁠(⁠*⁠^⁠▽⁠^⁠*⁠)⁠)⁠o(oh yeah I forgot, this cover is not mine, I just edited it, if you feel you own it and don't like me using it, please tell me)

Zhou Donghuang, a man from the Earth, is able to destroy any planet in the universe without lifting a finger. His supreme will can sweep across the vast cosmos in the blink of an eye. And his immortal spirit can depart from his body and wander around the universe!

Hello, my name is Hespera, and I am a psychopath or at least that is what all my doctors kept saying... and the god of reincarnation. He and the primordial of Chaos were quite the amusing duo. Oh, did I mention that I am also the first (and last) family member of Chaos. Yeah, that surprised me too. Apparently becoming a Blessed isn't easy.Anyway, I'm about to head out to my... hmm, fifth world? Or was it the sixth? Oh drat, I lost count! Well, whatever. It was lovely meeting you strange person from behind the screen. Please enjoy my life as-Girls! Stop groping me~

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.”