I’m Not Going to Be Bullied By a Girl - Chapter 16 – The Road to School

To the one who has never owned, obtained, or enjoyed anything throughout their entire life.“You have been chosen.”Thus, I shall bestow this power on you, for you are ’empty.’The power of the Void.Be my apostle and carry out my will.

I shall see the end of this story.It was the dream of every reader to travel to the world of their favourite novel even if it was a fleeting thought.But that was impossible. A work of fiction will simply remain a story. But it was different for our MC.He suddenly found himself in the world of his favourite webnovel. The genre of his life completely changed.The new world was a world filled with destruction and death was lingering at every corner.He was the last reader and he must survive in this forsaken world.

How does a half-grown mountain village boy like me end up bizarrely becoming the grandmaster out of nowhere?Source: Web...

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.”