Regressor Instruction Manual - Chapter 46: Even where there are tigers, foxes sometimes become kings (1)

Yi Zaha. The crazy demon crazy for martial arts. While he was running away after stealing the heavenly pearl of the Demon Cult Leader, he fell off a cliff. After thinking that everything was over, he opened his eyes to see that he had returned back to when he was a waiter… And he is being beat up for something that he didn’t do. The crazy demon who returned to the beginning of his days as a waiter! Will he go crazy again, or will he drive his enemies crazy?

On doomsday, Tang Yu unexpectedly got the Lord of the End System, he remained very calm.

Lack of experts? I will construct a pub so I can make ten draws in a row;

Lack of food? I can’t be too cheap with the large pack full of food supplies sent from the market;

Lack of safety? Arrow Tower, Mage Tower Artillery and all kinds of automatic defence buildings. Having many isn’t too many;

Lack of equipment? Workshop production must produce high-quality items. Sir, would you like one? We are having a 20% discount special at nine!

…………

In short, this is a story of Great Lord Tang building up his territory, attacking some monsters, and ripping off…… Cough, making some money at the same time.

Do not betray your employer;
Do not betray your companions;
do not lie;
Rather than violate it, I would rather be silent.
These are the four laws that “The Silent One” has abided by for thousands of years.

Day and night we roamed the streets of the Yordian cities,
Dressed in Chinese clothes, wearing a mask, with a long sword on his waist and a dagger in his pocket.
We take lives and receive payment.
We are as humble as ants and as noble as kings.
We hold the power over the life and death of others.
I never cared when I died.

Content tags: Fantasy and Magic Romance of the West Revenge

Search keywords: Protagonist: Giuliano, Enzo ┃ Supporting role: Antoine ┃ Others: fantasy, fictional, assassin

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”