The Young Urban Doctor - Chapter 795 - Sweet Nothings

In a world where strength determines one’s future, William, an orphan with no extraordinary talents, faces a grim destiny—until a brutal attack leaves him clinging to life. Instead of death, he awakens to a mysterious and powerful entity lurking within his mind: the Shadow System, a game-like interface that promises him unimaginable power. But this power comes with dark secrets, and refusing it would mean his death. Forced into a pact with a voice that can hear his every thought, William must navigate a dangerous new reality where shadow abilities and celestial power collide. As he enters the prestigious military academy, his newfound abilities draw both allies and enemies, all while a deadly conspiracy brews in the shadows. With the odds stacked against him, William must unravel the mystery of the Shadow System and decide whether to embrace the darkness within—or be consumed by it. His journey from a bullied outcast to a potential god will challenge not just his survival, but his very humanity. Power always comes at a cost—will William be able to pay the price? “What am I?” William asked the system. The system’s voice echoed in his head, cold and indifferent. “You are nothing.”

Unique skill ‘creditor’ which can bet with its debtors on the unpaid debts.

And the ability to take skills and stats!

Kang Yoo-sik’s chance to start a new life at the Hunter Military Academy.

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.”