Beyond the Timescape - Chapter 1034: Better Not Even Think of Hogging the Loot!

Bored Gamer in Other Worlds. A spoiled brat journeys in mystical worlds and beyond.

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A struggling businessman on the verge of bankruptcy finds himself drunk one night, only to wake up in the past—specifically, in 1943 London, amidst the chaos of World War II.This is an era of both immense danger and unprecedented opportunity. It is a time when the British Empire, once the unrivaled superpower where the sun never set, is finally witnessing the dusk of its dominion. Meanwhile, the United States is rising to claim the mantle of global leadership, reshaping the world's balance of power.This is the era where everything begins—where old rulers step down and new powers rise to take their place. This is the era where Pierre finds himself, an era filled with the kind of opportunity he never had before. A small, precious chance to rise, to become a giant, to seize the throne of power, to become a ruler, a world hegemon.

A soul named Wu Ling Feng transferred into a male magician character in DNF, that very moment Devil King’s journey officially began…

Enemies magic needs to be chanted, his doesn’t require such, it’s instantaneous magic. His second skill actually allows him to summon permanent dolls, whining Loli dolls, royal sister dolls, whatever he wants…

Loli girl : Onii-chan, don’t do that, it will be painful, ar…

- 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.”