Re: Legendary Berserker's Advent - Chapter 197 True Berserker Training (II)

“9th Class Low Grade Familiar.”He was shocked to find that he had summoned the weakest familiar that could be.Only when he saw the status, he couldn't help being more shocked.“Hypnosis? Why can no one else see this? What even is this skill?”

Frost is a healer and must use her wits, modern knowledge of medicine and challenge her moral compass in order to survive this world of Eldritch entities born from emotions, folklore, fairy tales, concepts and despair. She was no more than an ordinary man who fell into an unordinary circumstance. Suddenly appearing in a place called the Nexus in a different world from Earth had left him... er... HER curious about what this newfound world is all about. A world of swords, kingdoms and dungeons? Yep. Of races that were thought to be found only in fiction? Oh yeah. Of technologies that far surpass anything seen on Earth? Huh? isn’t that a bit much? At least they’re limited. And of magic that blatantly violates the laws of physics!? Yeah... physics don’t apply here. But her curiosity ended up costing her before she had learned much of the world of Elysia, and she was betrayed by a person she was led to believe she could trust the most. Come join Frost as she tackles Eldritch entities in a strange world far from home. However, this world may be a lot more closer to home than she realizes. *** < Judgement in Progress > The ‘Blessing of the Nexus’, which she had come to call the ‘System’, displayed these words before her wilting eyes. “Judge… ment... I… I came from… Earth… Transported here… turned into… a girl… and now… I’m being… Judged…? < Decision of One Thousand Juries Pending > < Awaiting Verdict > “… If… my only… wrong… is living… then I’d rather… be wrong… to the very end!” When the black forest fused with the darkness behind her eyelids – – A message appeared.

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.”

Chen Miao transmigrated to a supernatural world, where everyone had their own profession, such as “Student”, “Fighter”, “Thief”, and so on.After much contemplation, he activated the “Gunslinger” profession.From then on!While the foreign races brandished their claws to invade, and others tirelessly trained their physical fitness and learned skills.Chen Miao silently ventured into secret realms to collect all sorts of materials, crafting Occupation Exclusive weapons like the “Thompson Submachine Gun,” “Falling Blossom Sniper Rifle,” “Inferno Gatling,” “Matrix Sky-Eye Cannon,” and so on....One day, people suddenly noticed that a very unfamiliar Supernatural Occupation had appeared on the city's Combat Power rankings.And in the crowd.Chen Miao, bare-chested under a black suit jacket with sunglasses on and a cigar in his mouth, held two Inferno Gatlings in his hands, looking up slightly at a group of scoundrels in front of him with the corners of his mouth turned up.“Don't wait for me to stuff the gun barrel in your mouth before you admit you were wrong.”