My Wife Is A Ghost Exorciser - Chapter 1462: Epilogue (1)

Xiao YuAn transmigrated into a novel as the homosexual young Emperor imprisoning the Male Lead of a Stallion Novel.

This is indeed miserable, and sad.

Because of this, Xiao YuAn began to work hard to survive.

But!

“To those cannon fodders, even if you want to treat the Male Lead bad, can you stop sending him to my bed?” Xiao YuAn thinks that there’s nothing wrong in pampering the Male Lead, but that’s just because he wants to bathe in the Protagonist halo!

Xiao YuAn: “Don’t abuse the Male Lead ever again!!! You guys aren’t afraid of death, but I want to live!!!”

A story that starts out with the Shou taking care of the Gong, and then, the Gong takes care of the Shou.

Louie became a mythical dragon that was capable of traveling between Earth and the Otherworld at will.

From this point on, the number of races in the Otherworld became more plentiful. His territory was orderly and clean, with incredible cuisine, countless novelties, and civilization and philosophy ahead of the whole world.

On Earth, his existence caused the rebirth of magic and mythology, allowing him to become the only God.

“I am the Golden King, the Giver of Life, the Champion of Magic, the Weaver of Dreams, the Guardian of the World, the Master of Time. Let mortals bow down before me and look up! Let the Gods tremble in fear before me!”

The protagonist fell asleep while playing an online game. However, he awoke in a strange world with his game character’s appearance. In a state of shock, he noticed that he was equipped with nothing but his strongest weapon and armor. To make matters worse, our hero’s appearance was changed by the special avatar skin『Skeleton』when he entered this new world. The protagonist wanted to live without drawing attention, but he got acquainted with the dark elf Ariana and received her request.

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.”