Evil Prince, Come Play With Me - Chapter 1117 - The Heavenly Emperor Was Really Pitiful In the Past

Some say he is the bad apple in a basket, that he’s rotting everything around him with disgrace and corruption.

Some say he is the biggest scum of the South Zhanbu Continent, that he’s colluding with the dark sects to cheat, steal, and commit all manner of atrocities.

Some say he is the most wanted playboy. “Lock your daughters at home to keep Fang Xing away!”

To all of those people, “That’s right, I am that big rotten apple. Any problem with that?”

This brand of anti-hero is a young orphan with poor prospects and nothing more than the keepsakes of his uncles. He plots, schemes, and orchestrates all manner of villainy in his quest for power and revenge, unafraid to live precariously and make enemies out of those he really should not.

- 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.”

“You’re not taking me to bed. Ever.”

In the first year of the fire calendar, a large-scale spiritual recovery has occurred around the world.

One year after the fire calendar, the Jingwei Division was established and began to contain supernatural beings on a large scale.

After three years of the fire calendar, Xun Xi traveled to this world full of despair. However, in front of him, there is only a diary written by himself before his death, who claims to be the future.

The diary revealed his future death.

In other words, every line and every sentence in the diary is his masterpiece.

And it will be updated!

“Others are the favored sons of the heavens who have traveled through the world. Wherever they go, they will be followed by chance. Why is it only me, where I will die wherever I go, I am just a rebel, a version orphan.”

“unfair!”

…………

Carrying a future diary in his arms, Xun Xi is struggling to survive in this desperate world. He firmly believes: My future style, I am the master!

- Description from novelbuddy