RWBY: Moon Reflection - Chapter 64: Quest for Peace

In the last life, Lin Yu Tong chose to fly with Shen Jun for his own happiness, whereby he ended up creating an irreparable regret for a lifetime. However, such a contribution has not been able to exchange the happiness of a lifetime. Shen was derailed and Lin Yu Tong had an accident.

Having reincarnated into a different world, Murong Lin found himself utterly bewildered.The golden finger system informed him that he needed to eliminate the protagonist—wait, he wasn’t the protagonist?Innocently, Murong Lin turned his gaze towards the designated heroes, a butcher’s knife clutched in his hand. Regretfully, he realized he had no alternative but to end their lives if he wished to survive.Hold on, this pig was a protagonist too? And that tree?Without any choice, Murong Lin found himself forced down the path of bloodshed.

Superpowers descended upon the world. This was a world where everyone awakened to superpowers.

Some people awakened to abilities at the lowest F rank. They could only work the most difficult jobs for their entire lives. Meanwhile, some people started off with S rank powers and skyrocketed to fame.

In this age where talents determined everything, Ling Feng awakened the clone ability, which was ranked second last in the F rank powers.

The crowd mocked him, “That is one of the most useless talents. After one awakens this ability, they can create a clone of themselves. However, their strength is halved in the process. Aside from running errands and making deliveries, it is useless.”

However, very soon, Ling Feng discovered that something was off. That was because his talent could level up from the lowest F rank up to the SSR rank! He had unlimited clones and unlimited evolution!

Many years later, half of the superpower users in the world were Ling Feng’s clones.

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.”