MTL - Empress: My Husband Killed The Immortal Emperor After 10 Years Of Seclusion - Chapter 3 Terrible genius

In the Comprehensive Martial Arts Continent, five great empires vie for supremacy!In the jianghu, Land Immortals reign supreme, their power overshadowing all living beings.However, when Bai Chen descends upon this world, everything changes, and the entire narrative takes an unprecedented turn!Feilu reminds readers: This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real individuals or events is purely coincidental. Please do not attempt to imitate.

“Young man, your chastity was lost.”

“Σ ( ° △ °|||)!!”

Give up your virginity to save the world! Our motto is–” “I didn’t think it would be bent, la la la la la!”

- Description from Novelupdates

After becoming #1 in the world after playing a grand strategy game as the most difficult faction on immortal level difficulty, MC receives an invitation to compete in an even more challenging game which takes the MC into the world of the game itself, but as it's weakest lord who will die two days later that appears only as a cutscene in the tutorial as first of many deaths to rock the continent until only one survives to proclaim a new eternal empire.Can the MC use his game knowledge to successfully survive his impending doom, and rise from the ashes to reclaim the glory he'd won before?

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.”