My Avatar is Becoming the Ultimate BOSS - Chapter 1 - 00: Sleep Talk

Qin Ran just wanted to cultivate immortality, refine pills, and live a carefree life as an immortal world slacker. But a genius female disciple just had to get clingy, insisting that he take her as a disciple. Not only that, she was always making advances on him, thoroughly disrupting his peaceful slacker life…

Chu Mu Yun relied on his story of 《Demon Realm》 to become a one-hit wonder in JJWXC, but the him who had written seven mental cases to abuse seven mental cases to death would never have expected that he himself would transmigrate into this shitty novel!
What the hell is this system on the bracelet?
And what the hell is this either propose to seven men, or suffer the taste of a tragic death experience under the hands of these seven people?
I just wanted to write a novel to satisfy my bad interests, who would actually want to get tangled up with a bunch of mad dog sad*st crazies?

- Description from Novelupdates

After suffering from a heat stroke while working under the scorching heat of summer, Lu Zhou, a hardworking but poor university student, somehow becomes the owner of an advanced technological system. With the cheat given by the system, his university life changes overnight.

A Master’s degree? Easy.

PhD? Not a problem.

From a nobody, he quickly becomes a huge celebrity in the world of science. With the missions given by the system, he is on his way to winning a Nobel Prize.

“System, can points be exchanged for money?”

“No.”

“F**k, what use are you then!?”

“This system will make you the ultimate scholar, the kind that lords over all of humanity. What use will money be to you?”

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.”