Dungeon Predator - Chapter 269. Ruler of the Snowy Fields, Travium (3)

The ordinary world is not ordinary, ordinary people are not ordinary, and safe places are not safe.

This is a story of a passer-by male protagonist who is entangled by various girls with strange hobbies or even non-human beings while surviving in the cracks and opening a harem.

- Description from novelbuddy

A regular senior high school student accidentally obtained a Supernatural Ability System from three thousand years in the future. Lin Tian could exchange for all kinds of superpowers within the Supernatural Ability System. Exams? I have a photographic memory! You’re amazing? I transform into a Saiyan! An awesome life doesn’t need explanations!

[You have been killed by the Hero of Light.]

[You have died.]

I had died at the hands of the main character in the novel I had read before.

But I got another chance. I regressed and returned to the time when I first entered this novel world.

Once again, I live in this novel world as an extra character.

Since I have experience and knowledge, especially my World System which had upgraded, I'll do what I want to do.

I will become stronger than the main character.

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.”