The Failed Swordsman Who Became the Strongest After Spamming the 100 Million Years Button - Chapter 3.2: Dropout Swordsman and Swordsmanship Academy [1] – part 2

He stomped his feet and the land collapsed, looked above and the sky shattered, reached out and captured the stars in his hands.

He possessed the body of the bullied and ostracized Esdras Varthos, who had the lowest talent among his peers and was sold to the mages tower by his sly relatives to steal his title and lands.

Esdras used his powers to divine the fate of the world, and saw a terrifying scene, the apocalypse was about to start.

This world was going to be destroyed in an epic battle between gods, demons and titans.

As an ant he was fated to be a squashed under their feet.

There were a total of eight shards scattered and hidden in the universe, his only hope was to collect them all and ascend to divinity himself before the apocalypse. He was not willing to be an ant for long.

He already had one shard of a divine spark!

[You have gained 10 EXP]!

He will travel to many different kinds of worlds in the universe seeking the divine shards.

Su Qin crosses into a world where martial artists run rampant, where Buddhist monks from the Yuan Dynasty dominate the world. Jiuyang’s successor’s fist conquered the mountains and rivers, and Xiao Li’s flying knife smashed through the void.

Because Su Qin had no martial arts qualifications, he could only become a sweeping monk in the Shaolin Temple. At this time, the ‘Sign In System’ was activated.

Sign In in front of Buddha’s Golden Body, get [Buddha’s Palm].

Sign In in front of the Arhat Hall, get [Invincible Vajra Divine Art].

Sign in at the back mountain of Shaolin Temple, get [Golden Demon Body].

The Shaolin Temple was riddled with treasures, and you can sign in everywhere.

Su Qin decided that he would never leave the mountain without Signing In to everything in the Shaolin Temple. And so, he Signed In the Shaolin Temple for twenty whole years!

Twenty years later, the Shaolin Temple got mixed in the battle between the Righteous and Evil.

The Demons were fierce and powerful, they blatantly invaded the Shaolin Temple and were pushing forth with great force, but that is until they met Su Qin who was sweeping the floor…

They said they came from out of nowhere. There were no signs of their arrival nor there were any loud sounds.

One day, Humanity woke up and was forced to accept their existence...along with the destruction they brought with them.

Ashton West, a orphan and a transmigrator from Earth. He woke up in this near-apocalyptic world without anyone else to rely on aside from himself.

Thankfully, he was blessed with a golden finger that came with his transmigration package!

Ashton: This world needs a Hero...sadly, I can't be bothered to be one.

Ashton: Surely there's someone out there who can fulfill that role. As for me? Well...

"Being 'Humanity's Strongest Backer' doesn't sound so bad."

***

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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.”