Bone Painting Coroner - Chapter 613 - For the Bigger Picture

Follow Chen Ming as he accepts disciples, establishes a sect, and fights his way in a world that deems him a cannon fodder.
He goes against any common sense using his wits and novel knowhow to finish missions and arm himself against his cruel fate.

I was a genius in the Earthen Plane.

A seemingly ordinary training exercise led Chen Jian and his squad into a completely different time and space.In the post-apocalyptic world, monsters run rampant, and the surviving humans struggle to live under their terrifying claws.To fight the monsters, the living have abandoned everything.Human nature no longer exists; beastliness is the mainstream.To defeat them, one must first become them.-----------------Chen Jian was supposed to be like the others here, pursuing the maddening evolution.But, when the tungsten-core armor-piercing round first penetrated the Kui Niu's keratin armor, he suddenly discovered...Perhaps there is another way to stay alive?

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.”