The Return of the Disaster-Class Hero - Chapter 368: That isn't it! (2)

She is the legendary queen of mercenaries whose name daunts even the big shots in society. With an ancient jade pendant in her hand, she is great at almost everything, be it seeking the truth or the art of healing.

Hi there, I’m Chen Mo, as you’ve already noticed from my name, I’m a main character profile, or at least that’s how it was supposed to be. For legal reasons, I won’t be disclosing my real name, I’m a typical corporate slave working 996 at a game development company.Although I hate it, its not all that bad, I hop on with my non-existent friends every now and then doing the usual stuff, yk, cranking 90s, getting the Ws(never) and reading some dogshit wuxia novels with negative translations but I still make it work.That was my life until I was transmigrated into the world of cultivation and took over my boy Chen Mo’s profile RIP lol. Chen Mo’s your typical MC profile, yk, has talent, then gets spiritual roots removed or whatever, engagement annulled, just the usual stuff.Anyway, enough about that, during my transmigration, I somehow got to keep my programmer job, don’t ask how idk either. To pay tribute to my boy Chen Mo for taking his account before he had his heaven defying opportunity to take revenge, I’ll build a sect for all MC profiles in the world. Your engagement got annulled? here’s a cultivation system, your sect got destroyed? here’s a god-level cultivation technique, your spiritual roots are broken? here’s some more.

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.”

When a struggling graduating student failed his capstone project, he got frustrated and attempted to take his own life. The moment he was about to take a leap, a voice stopped him and handed him a strange box and disappeared.As he got home, he opened the box and saw a strange usb device and a set of strange pills. Later he found out that the USB contained inventions from the 20th to 23rd century, and the pills were a nootopic drug.With this discovery, his life would soon change from an outcast of the family to the world’s powerful businessman that would create companies that would rival top companies around the world.