Taming the Beast World with a Frying Pan - Chapter 60: A Very Loud System Update

Shen Yu's world is facing the apocalypse. With the help of his Gray Mist Space, he could do good things such as saving lives to gain more gray mist and use it to do everything he wants to do. And what's more, no one but him can survive in the Space. However, this time, two figures walk out of the Space, and when they spin around, Shen Yu is shocked, because the two figures are all him from different worlds.“Your world is facing an apocalypse too?”“Indeed.”

Before the rebirth, Gu Qingyao wanted to marry him but did not dare to marry. After the rebirth, Gu Qingyao, with the space materials in hand, all day planning to marry him with a huge dowry.

After dying prematurely from an incurable disease, Yuka Hikano finds himself in a mysterious realm filled with endless doors, each concealing divine gifts from powerful deities. He is not alone—others who have met the same fate of death stand beside him, unaware of the trials that await.They are put through various tests and eventually transmigrated into different worlds. But these worlds are nothing like the Earth they once knew.For Yuka, however, this apocalyptic world feels eerily familiar. It is a realm of endless war, devastation, and chaos—a world he once played in a game. Certainly not the kind of place one would wish to be reborn into.From infancy to adulthood, he must gather strength, knowledge, and allies to survive the horrors that lurk ahead. But when he awakens a system granting him a power beyond imagination, he soon realizes that blessings can also be curses.[You have gained Infinite Mana.]Infinite Mana...?What could possibly go wrong?

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.”