MTL - I Just Became An Immortal, My Descendants Beg Me To Come Out of the Mountain - Chapter 6 Heavenly Prison in Beijing, Evil King Attacks

Traveling through the world of Genshin Impact, Li Xingshan accidentally activates “Evil Simulator”

Had to be a big badass in The Sims.

“Shen He, you don’t want Chongyun to be expelled from school, do you?”

“Captain Qin, you don’t want Barbara to be an idol, do you?”

“Gan Yu, you don’t want these photos to be seen by others, do you?”

“Lei Movie, you don’t want Guo Beng to be bullied at school, right?”

…………

In order to make up for the evil things done in the Sims, Li Xingshan can only accumulate virtue and do good in reality.

Who knew that one day, Shen He, holding a long spear, appeared in front of him: “Li Xingshan, if you have done all the bad things, I will kill you today and do justice for the heavens!”

Li Xingshan: ? ? Wait, aren’t those fake?

- Description from novelbuddy

Gou Liang was originally a small office worker of the Space-Time Administration Bureau but because of a weird questionnaire, he was sent to multiple worlds in order to complete a mysterious and arduous mission — to use the correct posture to awaken lord god.

This world has Fox Fairies, River Gods, Water Monsters, Great Demons and Cultivators who seek immortality.

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.”