Dragon's Wrath: The Cursed Returnee - Chapter 299 Final Battle (11)

“Why is it that everyone has hated you since you were little?”“Why do you always manage to explode with power when you’re in dire straits?”“Why, despite having no weak chakra control, can’t you even walk on water?”Kurama (Nine-Tails) looked up and laughed heartily: “There’s only one answer—”“You are! The one who nearly destroyed Konoha and killed the Fourth Hokage twelve years ago! The Jinchuriki of the strongest tailed beast, the Nine-Tails Kurama! Hahahahahaha!”

In the vast world of immortals, with creatures crawling on the ground like ants, He Qingge transmigrated into the world of cultivation. Although he didn’t have much talent, fortunately, he awakened a talented ability!

【The Heart of Beast Taming】

1. Contract: With each advancement to a higher realm, you can contract one tamed beast. At the time of the contract, the tamed beast’s cultivation level cannot be one major level higher than your own level.

2. Sharing: You can share all the abilities and talents of the contracted tamed beast.

3. Tamed Beast Affinity: All spiritual beasts will have a good impression of you when they see you for the first time.

4. Insight: You can obtain simple insights into the information of spiritual beasts.

After twenty years of hard work and planning, He Qingge finally developed his tamed beasts’ potential and reached the peak of cultivation in one night. After countless ages, he looked down from the sky, overlooking the world with his tamed beasts by his side, roars echoing through the ages.

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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.”

"I hope my wife liked the arrangements... for the wedding night."