Planet Pulverizer: A Mortal's Ascent - Chapter 35: Secret Art

In the continent of Tiandi humans lived amongst beasts, demons, and spirits. Here warriors were as common as the clouds in the sky, and each expert could either cultivate their inner energy known as Qi, or their soul, to form Spiritual Energy.

In the village of Jinwei, Luo Xiao grew up like a beautiful bird locked in a cage. He was weak from birth and unable to leave his bed for an extended period of time, yet his beauty made him well-liked amongst the villagers.

One day disaster struck the village of Jinwei. A Corpse Puppet appeared wanting to eradicate all life. A seal was unlocked, and soon the Corpse Puppet was dead under the hand of the sickly Luo Xiao, but this was not the end of his misfortune.

Right when he thought that the end was coming, a man as handsome as a god descended to the mundane world and took him away.

For the sake of revenge, Luo Xiao sold his soul to this handsome man, but is it only his soul that this alluring stranger took from him?

All rights to the Cover Image belongs to me.

This is a story of a man named Kim Sae-Jin, who one day, inexplicably wakes up as a Monster. Follow him and his perilous journey to get his life back as a Human, all the while growing even more versatile as a Monster in the process. This should be… complicated, somewhat.

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.”