MTL - Farm Gate Escape: There is Room For Full-level Bosses - Chapter 24 pariah

Transmigrating to the disciples of the Demon Sect, and relying on the skill modifier to become a giant of the Demon Dao.

[Detected the technique “Blood Nerve”, relying on devouring blood to practice]

[Side effects: easily affected by the spirit contained in the blood, becoming bloodthirsty, bloodthirsty, mad, and even brain dead]

[Please wait a moment, the system is being modified…]

[Ding! The modification is complete, and the side effects are cancelled]

- Description from novelbuddy

Emily Molson, PA to Derek Haven, CEO of Haven Group has nightmares every night, that prevent her from getting a good night's rest.Derek Haven, on the other hand is lucky to get any sleep at all. The two of them work close together but have no idea that they have the same problem.Then one night they end up in bed together and a miracle happens.

In the midst of the blue and purple neon lights, under the gray, metallic sky, it is the frontier of all data, the aftermath of a scientific revolution, also the border of fiction and reality.

Steel versus body; the past and the future.

Here, the Outer World and the Inner World exist alongside each other. It seems like the wall of time is right in front of your eyes.

Darkness gradually swallows the world.

But listen, my friend, we cannot use kindness to survive the darkness. We need fire.

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.”