MTL - Escape the Infinite Chamber - Chapter 183 The Brave Battle (1)

All I ever wanted was for famous detectives like Sherlock Holmes or Arsène Lupin to appear in my dreams and share their wisdom. But instead, why am I hearing the voices of notorious serial killers in my head, guiding me to solve a string of mysterious cases?

“The war is finally over?! Then, what am I going to do with my life?” Caedrel, a man who had spent his entire life fighting, had no idea what to do next. Fortunately, he was offered to become a teacher in the greatest academy in the world. However, he wouldn’t be a normal teacher but a spy for his country’s Emperor! Doesn’t sound too bad, right? Well, it would have been great, that is…until he learned that his class was for the most talented(weird) students in the entire world.

“Oracle” – A groundbreaking game emerges, silently transforming the world. When the game’s powers can manifest in reality, does it inspire excitement or instill fear?Ethan Carter, an ordinary office worker, falls victim to food poisoning after accidentally consuming expired groceries. However, upon logging into “Oracle,” he unexpectedly acquires a unique ability known as the “Venom Source.” Turning his misfortune into a blessing, Ethan embarks on an extraordinary journey to the pinnacle of power.

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.”