The Strongest Curse Master - Chapter 27: Loot

Chu Li was a particle physicist until a freak accident took his life and transmigrated him to a parallel universe – one where he wakes up with inexplicable abilities and finds himself in the running for a job in the imperial palace.

The end of the world is full of crises, but Su Chen says not to worry because he has the Red Alert System. That’s how confident he is. You say you have a lot of weapons? Sorry, I have more weapons than I can use here. Let me introduce you to the weather control device. You say the mutant beasts are very powerful? No problem, I have a way to deal with them…

Ye Xuan transmigrated back to when he was an infant cuddling in the embraces of his nine older sisters. He activated the God-tier Sign-in System.

[You are hugged by your eldest sister, who is the COO of a financial conglomerate. You signed in and obtained RMB100000000.]

[You are fed medicine by your second sister, who is crowned the God Hand. You signed in and acquired god-tier acupuncture skills.]

[You trained along with your third sister, who is a Martial Arts Grandmaster. You signed in and your overall physique improved.]

[You live-streamed with your fourth sister, who is the top news anchor in the country. You signed in and acquired extraordinary good looks.]

……

Ye Xuan could sign in daily!

After staying in the city and signing in for eight years, Ye Xuan had accumulated an astronomical amount of wealth and become a billionaire.

On his eighth birthday, his nine sisters were forced by the grand elder of their clan to get married. Just when everyone had lost hope of turning things around, Ye Xuan hopped down from his eldest sister’s embrace and said, “You’re marrying my sisters off against their wills. Have you consulted me about this?”

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.”