I Became A Mighty Lion - Chapter 517 - Leave No One Alive

Birth rates are decreasing. Hope is vanishing. The world has gone gray.Humanity, drifting in quiet collapse, receives an email.Every person on Earth. Simultaneously.The Aegis Mandate.Disguised as a cosmic aptitude test, it triggers The Incident of Separation—a global psychic cataclysm that erases identities, wipes memories, and divides all survivors into three factions: Law, Neutral, and Chaos. Overnight, cities become battlegrounds. Apartments become dungeons. Ordinary people become monsters—or the ones who hunt them.Ragnar Vhagar was just a loner university student. Now, thanks to a system he didn’t ask for, he’s a newly minted Demon King, locked in a crumbling apartment with goblins under his sofa and a glowing soul crystal next to his frozen peas. His new job? Build a deadly domain, defend it from invading “Heroes,” and somehow level up fast enough to not die.Alongside him is Isabelle Thorne, a razor-sharp warrior of few words and one very sharp sword. Their reluctant alliance, born in blood and snark, evolves into trust—and maybe something dangerously close to affection—as they rise together through the layers of the game-like world they’re trapped in.With each conquered domain and defeated boss, Ragnar realizes the truth: the dungeons aren’t meant to crown a winner. They’re meant to break the players. The Law faction wants control. The Chaos faction craves destruction. But Ragnar? He wants something they’re all too afraid to say out loud:Freedom.In the ruins of Kanta’s ogre stronghold, Ragnar and his misfit warband take their biggest step yet—claiming a kingdom, unifying a fractured system, and preparing for what comes next. The Heroes are watching. The gods are stirring. The world is watching a war.And somewhere deep beneath it all... Ragnar is rewriting the rules.

An Hao leaped, thinking she had died, but to her surprise, when she opened her eyes, she found herself back in the year 1985. To live a second life, did she have to endure the abuse of her stepmother and stepsister again, the dislike of her mother-in-law and disdain from her sister-in-law, and the betrayal of her best friend who bravely became the other woman just to slap her in the face and climb the social ladder? Was she supposed to end her miserable life in poverty again? An Hao's answer was, “Eat! Shit! No!” She was determined to make something of herself, to get rich by capitalizing on her knowledge and aim for a well-off life. This time around, she was going to be the protective big sister who reformed her worthless little brother who had died a wretched death, and the virtuous wife to make up for her past neglect of her husband! She wouldn't let this life go to waste in despair! A malicious best friend? Coveting her man? Not a chance! Go hang out wherever it's cool! Cough cough, how did she not realize in her past life that this “Stoic King of Hell” was so indecent. Decent? You've had your fill of decency during the day.

Since the opening of the Dungeon Rifts-- also called D.Rifts or Drift Dimensions, the world has changed. It's become more militaristic and violent-- unpredictable, even. Monsters raze cities and bring diseases that birth new races. Magic exists in a constant state of hyperflux, birthing new powers and changing the functions of old ones.But none of that mattered for Rex. He wasn't a Drift Soldier-- as much as he wanted to be. He didn't have powers-- even if he wished he did, so when he graduated primary school, he expected to get his Drift Armament and find a bit of consistency for once in his life.But you know what they say about expectations......DING![Congratulations! You have awakened the Beast-Totem and unlocked your Werepanther System.][5 Totems Remaining....]*********Extra tags: kingdom building, military, martial arts, overpowered, scifi-fantasy, post-apocalyptic, factions,

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.”