Triple SSS Ranked Talents: Supreme Gacha Ranger - Chapter 5: The Vance Family

Come here folks, let me tell you a wondrous story about a bizarre world.

A world with two moons and three suns.

A world where death is never the end and birth is just the beginning of misery.

A world filled with stories of love, war, and betrayal.

A world where the gods are bored of the mundane as much as you.

And then there is I, the maestro of this bizarre world that exists solely to entertain you.

So follow me and enjoy the misery as much as I do.

*****

A mentally ill man who only finds the meaning of life in twisted entertainment stumbles upon the supernatural world. A world full of chaos, and entities that can cause one to go mad. But what if you are mad to begin with.

Let’s watch our Jester as he crafts entire plays to entertain an audience that only exists in his head.

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I found myself possessing the body of a young master who everyone was eager to kill. I’m invincible, so let them try to kill me. It’s only for one second, though.

A mysterious virus emerged, and countless people around the world turned into zombies. Luo Yang, a young man who was about to risk everything, receives the blessing of activating the system.Initially, he gains a massive spaceship with hundreds of subordinates and a divine-level talent.Just when Luo Yang thinks he can live peacefully aboard the ship, he discovers the system's function: to obtain rewards by allowing other survivors to live on board.But Luo Yang doesn’t want to be a savior; the spots on the spaceship are limited, and only those who pay will be allowed to live in his refuge.

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.”