Back Then, I Adored You - Chapter 1050: Can You Come with Me? (10)

“Heroes killed my parents. Now I wear the mask of one. Until I can bury them all.”At seven years old, Hernan Vale watched his parents — two powerful heroes — brutally executed in their own home by the very people they trusted most: the legendary super-team known as the Zodiac 13.They thought he was dead.They made sure the world blamed villains.They covered their tracks.But Hernan survived — and never forgot.Ten years later, under a false name, Hernan enters the prestigious Hero Academy, hailed as a prodigy. To the world, he’s a rising star. To his classmates, he’s charming, calm, unstoppable.But inside?He’s a weapon. Waiting. Smiling. Counting names.As he trains to become a licensed hero, fights real villains, and rises through the ranks, Hernan plays the long game — earning the trust of the Zodiac, learning their routines, studying their weaknesses. One by one, he’ll bring them down.And this time, he won’t hide in the closet.But the deeper he goes, the more blood he spills — the more he wonders if he’s becoming worse than the monsters he’s hunting.And when love, loyalty, and lies collide, Hernan may have to decide:Will he save the world like they think he will...or finish burning it down?

The earth has entered the era of aura recovery, and human beings have started their supernatural awakening!

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.”