The Real Rich Daughter is Exposed at a Variety Show - Chapter 363 - : The Culprit

The Pseudo-Holy Grail War of Snowfield is About to Begin!Moran, who has transmigrated into the Type-Moon universe, is determined to clear the game in one life!Waiting online, urgent!Ding! You have successfully activated the Life Simulator!• 【You drove out the foreign Olympian Machine Gods, took the hand of the Earth Mother Goddess, and founded a new nation and mythology.】• 【You are the Lord of the Millennium Castle, bestowed with the name Brunestud, and the beloved ruler of the land in the eyes of the Crimson Moon.】• 【You are the Final King of the Age of Gods, single-handedly preventing its decline and ensuring that Divine Age Britain endures to this day.】Behind this dazzling simulated life, Moran now faces—Arcueid: “Weren’t you supposed to pick me up at the Millennium Castle? Why are you here in the Holy Grail War?!”Artoria: “Enough! Come back to Britain with me!”Ereshkigal: “Moran! Who are all these women?!”As his ever-growing circle of admirers closes in, Moran realizes—This might just be the hardest “Kidney Grail War” in history.

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.”

Opening his eyes, Long Tian finds himself in a scene where he's beating up a protagonist.

He's confused, until a deluge of foreign memories assaults his mind, leading him to a chilling realization: He has died... and transmigrated.

But there's a problem - he's become a villain!

At first, he's okay with this. But the more time passes, he notices something.

Why doesn't he have a system?!

This worries him. Going up against a protagonist without a system feels like a suicide mission.

But of course, he doesn't lose hope. He looks at his own identity.

The young master of an ancient family, check.

Rich and good-looking, check.

A genius with extraordinary talent, check.

Awakened the martial spirit of a dragon king, check.

With all of these, does he have any reason to complain?

“Goddamn protagonist, I will make you suffer!”

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Harem or not? I haven't actually made a decision about that. Let the storyline unfold, and we'll see in the future.

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