Starting out as a Dragon Slave - Chapter 132: Anger Leads to Hatred

“Welcome to Eclipse Online, the most lethal full-dive MMORPG on the planet, where there is only one life. Death is permanent, and each choice has a price the fragile world cannot afford. But for one of its players, the rules are about to be rewritten”.Following a fatal attack of the dungeon, he discovers a hidden room with a horrific inscription: he has been made the Eclipse Reaver, fated to tread the game world eternally.Each time he dies, he is resurrected, but at a horrific cost: shattered soul shards erase his memories, emotions, and abilities.As the game universe descends into chaos and its top players fall, he is forced to explore the dark conspiracy of Eclipse Online before he too is lost for good.With gory fights, shifting game mechanics, and a mystery thickening by the minute, never has the pressure been higher.Will he overcome the system, or lose himself in the void? Will he manage to retain his sanity, or be one of the many lost souls in the void?

Zhen Zhen was reborn in the forest area in the 1960s with a drop of the blood of the ancient gods. The awakening of the blood of the gods not only gave Zhen Zhen one power after another, but also made her the most favored little lucky star in the family!

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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.”

Survival is easy. Life is very difficult. My family wants not to live in humility, but to live a proud and glorious life. My family, will not be slaves!

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