The Silver Crescent Alpha Prince - Chapter 412 - Babies

A genius talisman practitioner is reborn as a seven-year-old girl! However, her innocent appearance belies her vicious personality.

As he woke up, Wei Xuan realized he returned to the day when the apocalypse had just begun. Wei Xuan, who had a second chance at life, immediately decided: not to go to a survivor base, and not to return to human society, instead, there is only one thing he wants to do now. Find the half-zombie Du Hang, and live with him in the city full of zombies, farming and living together until old age. Wei Xuan, who stayed in the zombie city after being reborn, unexpectedly found out that zombies are not as terrible as humans think…

- Description from Novelupdates

When he woke up, Rono traveled to the world of pirates.

I thought I could live happily and peacefully.

But the appearance of Tianlong people broke this situation!

Rono, watching his parents being shot to death by Tianlong people!

Under extreme anger, Rono awakened the system and vowed to kill all the Tianlong people!

From then on, a [Extremely Evil One] who specialized in hunting Tianlong people was born!

Wherever Rono went, the Tianlong people shivered!

Admiral?

Two more and I will kill all of you rubbish!

Karp: The Evil One?

He is a monster created by the Tianlong people, and one day the Tianlong people will pay for it!

Roger: 【One Piece】?

Compared with [The Evil One], it’s nothing but a cloud!

Whitebeard: [The strongest man in the world]?

No, no, Rono is the strongest!

Rocks: In terms of killing Tianlong people, Rono is the first, I am second, everyone else is garbage!

- 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.”