After an Infinite Flow Player Retires - Chapter 72

A massive underground labyrinth awaits in an alternate world of swords and magic. With a game-like system much more familiar than spells and magic circles, Beatrice has managed her magic and risen to the position of “strongest”, but she still has her worries.

“Bghohhh!! Bshrrrr…mumble mumble…”

“B-Boo Boo! Stop! Stooooooop!! I’ll…I’ll be crushed!? I-is my, ah, love being tested!?”

Who is the legendary man named Boo Boo who, just by taking a nap, can overpower the Level Cap Holy Swordswoman? A thousand meter dragons and a proud elf girl will also show up, so what exactly is going to happen with these residents of another world!?

Fanatic virtual gamers:
Tired of the stereotyped linear drama emotions? Want to try a real open world game?
Are you tired of playing an RPG that can only play a role? Want to lead the subordinates in virtual reality and experience the thrill of governing the army?
Welcome to the massive open killing game “War in Heaven”.
……
Seeing the game’s winning and losing judgment mechanism, a professional player who is interested in PVP for 20 years and is also very interested in AI, has a bright smile:
“It’s time to show the real killing method… How about building an AI army by the way?”

- Description from Uukanshu translation

I lived for you in the last lifetime, everything I did was for you, yet you wanted me to die; so, this time, life is mine to live! This world lied to me, betrayed me, and humiliated me, and I am back to change everything!

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”