Daoist Master Of Qing Xuan - Chapter 671 - The Great Battle of Bi You Palace

Kang Min-hyuk, the loser of the checkpoint, gained a high-level magical civilization and everything changed.

Han-Yeol worked as a Porter, and one day experienced an unforgettable awakening, turning into a Hunter!

But… What?

He had to hunt monsters to level up, and could only gain skills by repeating actions?

……………………………………………………………

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Light and darkness are twins, blessings and curses coexist.Oh girl who stands upon the stage of destiny,May your path ahead be filled with blessings.------------Anko Probabilistic Narrative Writings：It's like telling stories by rolling dice. Just as many games offer various action and dialogue options that lead to different branching storylines, this book creates characters, advances the plot and builds the world view by providing a large number of different branches and using dice rolls to determine the outcome.

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.”