The Princess And The Lord - Chapter 1348: Trapped

I thought I had seen bad endings before—but nothing prepared me for the garbage conclusion of The Hero’s Path.Years of investment, countless struggles, and for what? The protagonist failed. The villain won. Everyone else? Dead. Furious, I sent a message to the author, only to get a chilling response:[Do you think you could do better?]Before I could even blink, my phone exploded in a blinding light, and the next thing I knew—I was waking up in a completely different body.Now, I’m Merlin Everhart, a fourteen-year-old with a 12-star talent, the kind of gift only the strongest should have.But here’s the problem: I have no idea who I am supposed to be.With nothing but a system and a first-day-of-school alarm ringing in my ears, I’m thrown into the world of The Hero’s Path.Am I just another side character in a world that already ended once?…Either way, I refuse to let this story beat me too.

When crossing over to multiple books, Ren Shuhan found that every protagonist Shou was waiting for him to start chasing them in the crematorium.

“Don’t waste your time waiting,” He advised sincerely, “There are more 0s than 1s, so I’m not going to chase someone that is not interested.”

The protagonist Shou (sneering): Oh, there will be a day where you’ll lick the ground I walk on.

After waiting and waiting…

Ren Shuhan: “This is the wedding invitation for my childhood friend and I’s wedding.”

On the wedding night, Ren Shuhan removed the veil: “Baby, I’ve come to marry you.”

“Don’t you know that life is nothing but a play where you are the male lead and I am just a supporting character?”

“I know, but I don’t care.”

He was smiling, but Jiang Qingyue wept.

- 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.”

In a tyrannical world, what is evil? What is benevolence? All living creatures are brutal. Passing through the heaven road to find one’s purpose in life. Struggles to be stronger is not an easy path. The whole journey thistles and thorns, one blade chops open a path, I alone will be supreme!