Getting A System In A Modern World - Chapter 129: Professor Edward(III)

Transmigrated to the Douluo Continent, I have become a 1000-year-old Man-Faced Demon Spider. Across from me is a guy claiming to be Tang San, chasing me down, demanding I become his third spirit ring! Should I fight back or run for my life? It’s urgent—waiting for advice online!

The chairman of the White House of ‘City A’ and his wife died in a plane crash, leaving their 3-year-old orphan with a large fortune. The relatives were trying their best to cheat the girl and enter the house to get ahold of it. But who knew that the ’10 billion-dollar doll’ would have chosen her father, or also known as the city’s most popular guy, on her own…

Luo Sheng: “f*ck, I’m not doing it!”

Yinyin: “Daddy, hug!”

Luo Sheng: “….”

A few days later —

“F*ck, who dares to bully my daughter? I won’t let him get away with this!”

- Description from Novelupdates

A serious accident caused the protagonist’s brain to have an unusual mutation. This changed the brain development that it opened the door to a mysterious universe. Not only he obtained a ‘god-like’ powerful telekinetic control and mental perception, he also had an abnormal analysis and memory capability comparable to super computer. Having such super brain, his rough life began.

Brain development progress 10%…….20%……50%….80%…. …100%

- 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.”