Riches and Bitches: I have a gate to an isekai and leveling-up system! - Chapter 327 Is it trully the realm of the supreme?

Su Mo, a young man of the modern times, transmigrated to the world of martial arts.The sole survivor of the declining Su family, he inherited the Ziyang Escort Agency, a courier service that was on the brink of collapse.Su Mo was determined to restore the family business to its former glory, but he was young and inexperienced. And the martial arts world was fraught with dangers and intrigues!Unexpectedly, a system popped up that rewarded him each time he completed a courier mission.With this reward system, Su Mo entered an unprecedented realm. He mastered the Longxiang Wisdom Divine Skill which transformed his internal Qi and gave him boundless energy and stamina to accomplish his missions.Still, troubles came knocking on his door as he embarked on his missions, from escorting a benign scholar to delivering a mysterious brocade box for a dying man.Could Su Mo avoid getting tangled in other people's affairs? And would he survive the storms and gain a foothold in the treacherous martial arts world?

A young man who had longed for stories of good and evil since childhood lost his life in a tragic accident and was reincarnated as a boy named Chrono Mak in another world.

He learned that in this other world, there is magic and witchcraft, and depending on how you train them, you can become as strong as you want to be, so he decided to become the strongest demon king in order to recreate the story of justice and evil he once dreamed of.

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.”