Konoha Hypocrite - Chapter 256.2: ‘A’ and ‘B’ Uniting, Best Military Tactics

At the press conference, reporters frantically asked Chen Xing: “What is the reason why you won the championship at a young age? I heard that a player reported that you cheated? Is it true?”

Chen Xing pushed the microphone away from his nose, with a look of displeasure on his face: “I solemnly state again that I did not turn it on!”

After finishing his words, Chen Xing waved his hand to summon the giant beast that covered the sky and the sun, and jumped on its back. “Damn it, I can’t stand it anymore. I raised it well and it turned out to be a cheat? My crocodile accidentally ate a demon and it turned out to be cheating?”

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- Description from novelbuddy

Mimizuku, a small girl with chains on her wrists and ankles and the numbers “332” branded onto her forehead, wanders into the Forest of Night seeking to be eaten by a monster. However, when the ruler of the monsters, the mysterious and beautiful “King of Night,” refuses to eat her, she tries to formulate a way to convince him otherwise.

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.”