Zhanxian - Chapter 815: Heavenly Tribulation Retreats The Enemy

Takahiro Nao, a 25-year-old drowning in debt and despair, lives only for his struggling family. Every sacrifice he makes is for them—until a selfless act costs him his life. Instead of the end, Nao encounters a Goddess of Benevolence who offers him a miraculous deal: “Live in a new world, and your efforts there will support your family back on Earth.”Reborn into the dead body of Naoki von Blackmore, the so-called “Failed Hero,” he finds himself burdened with the daunting task of saving the world by defeating the Demon King—all while supporting the family he cherishes. Armed with formidable powers yet haunted by his past failures, Nao steps into a dangerous realm of swords, magic, and ferocious monsters. Facing relentless enemies, harrowing trials of life and death, and an unyielding fate, he’s forced to confront the ultimate question: how far is he willing to go to protect the people he loves?Filled with emotional struggles, determination, unexpected humor, and a touch of romance, this story asks a powerful question to the readers: What would you sacrifice for the people you love?

Just when I got to know her, the hairy girl only wants to beat me up!Prim childhood sweetheart treads on me underfoot!Childhood friend turned sister suddenly demands I repay the kindness of upbringing?...Are all these twists of human nature, or the moral decay?Surrounded by young girls wielding knives, Shen Mo Dust trembles: 'Author, why do I only meet bad women?''What exactly are you not satisfied with, let's switch roles!'Jealous at having crafted the protagonist's peak of life with his own hands but without a single girl by his side, the author furiously slams the keyboard!(Spotting the little whips raised by the venerable readers, he picks up the keyboard again)The alternate titles of this book are 'They Shine Like Stars' and 'They Are Lonely Like Stars'.

I possessed a third-rate villain who died in every route of my favorite game.

But I want to live.

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.”