Sons of a devil - Chapter 96: the celebration

For the sake of his family, Ren embarked on the popular VRMMORPG, COVENANT, that used real-time in-game currency. But being a mediocre player who only knows how to gather information, he was put in a supporting role.

As the game explodes in popularity and every multibillion-dollar company invested in the game, things have turned for the worse for Ren. Due to the amount of information he gathered, the cheats, secrets, quests, and bugs he discovered, he was silent in fear of selling the information to the other guilds.

But given a second chance, he went back in time when his father was still alive and COVENANT was just in its starting phase.

This time . . . he wouldn’t be that guy on the side who gathered information from day in and day out for ten years.

Equipped with the games knowledge he accumulated, he will become . . . an Alchemist!

Chrono Mage? Djin Master? Summoner? Necromancer?
Chaos Lord?

What good are those?

Sure they’re powerful and rare classes and sought after by guilds, but it’s the alchemist who forged artifacts and concocts rare items and potions that gets the most coins at the end of the day!

It was better than being a blacksmith or a crafter! Plus, he could use all sorts of magic without limit to race and class!

It was the ultimate class! And no one even knows it!

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.”

How long can one ignore the voices in their head?Nine years. To Mark, that was the limit.For the majority of his life, Mark White has been fighting a constant battle for his sanity. The voices in his head pushed him toward madness one whisper at a time, and the music he used to ward against them was gradually losing its effects.As his mental state slowly deteriorated, Mark spent more of his time working on a game he had been developing and lamenting his lack of romantic experience.One night, the voices dealt him a powerful blow, bringing their battle to an end. To his surprise, Mark won the battle, but that came at a great cost.The voices might have disappeared, but a visual hallucination arrived to replace them, taking the form of a character from his game: Maids VS Apocalypse. Little did he know that the real apocalypse was already coming for him.

(Immortal Cultivation+Meeting a Perfect Match+Shura Field+Invincible Flow+Upgrade Flow+Playing the Pig and Eating the Tiger)—What is cultivation? When I think back to the past, cultivation was, as a baby, kicking my legs over and over again—kicking on the bed, kicking on the ground, kicking every single day. Cultivation was, as I grew older, swinging my sword again and again—slashing here, cutting there. Cultivation became, as I matured, the repeated harmony of yin and yang—busy tonight, and busy again tomorrow night. … My name is Xu Ming. I have never cared about the stipends given to me by those sect masters, noble ladies, or princesses.I said to her, “Can you give me a room closer to yours? I need to report my work to you at any moment.” Even if I accomplish nothing every day, I just want to watch how she cultivates. I…