Fate: I Heard After Death, You Can Ascend to the Throne of Heroes? - Chapter 289: King Arthur and Promise..

I found myself inside the bleak BL novel Silence, where both the protagonist and the antagonist perish. And I became the oppressed omega, Seo Heemin, who tries to escape, ends up breaking his ankle, and even suffers a miscarriage. As expected, as soon as I come to my senses, I am sold to Cha Yiheon, who harbors a deep grudge against the original protagonist. “Why don’t you hit me?” “…Do you want to be hit?” Fortunately, he is a revenge-driven character who loves Seo Heemin dearly. To return to reality, I have to gently seduce him and achieve a happy ending. *** “Hyung, it’s Heemin.” —…Where are you now? Are you crazy enough to want to die? The raw emotion of his anger was palpable. His rage was at its peak, more intense than ever. But, as I had expected this reaction, I calmly responded to him. “I’ll be done with my appointment in an hour, so come pick me up. Let’s go on a date at our lake park.”

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.”

One day, in front of my eyes appeared a silver-haired Goddess.

What kind of bullsh*t is this woman spouting?

“…What?”

No, I’m not.