The Demon's Bride - Chapter 737: Shock, Surprise, and Answer-II

Lynch crosses over to the Wizard World and becomes a Wizard Apprentice specializing in Biological Transformation, armed with a Skill Level system.Thus...He equips a lizard with bat wings, transforming it into a ferocious yet adorable Dragon Attribute creature.He transplants gastric mucosa to the Cannibal Flower to enhance its digestive system.He equips the Poisonous Mushroom with a mouthpiece, transforming it into a Little Spraying Mushroom.Transplanting eyeballs, modifying organs, adding limbs...From a little wizard, he hustles his way to becoming the master of the world, starting from the transformation of low-level Magic Plants until he creates an Angel.

I can see ghosts. Even the ghosts inside games. But then…”Ah! Not there, over that way! My family heirloom is hidden there.” The ghosts in the game keep revealing hidden pieces to me.

“Wait... Where am I and... who am i?”Just after he thought he was successfully betrayed and killed by his most favored surbodinate. Taylor finds himself on the floor of a remote alley“Don't tell me I got reincarnated?” Hutton muttered with a look of disbelief on his face.P.S; Join the novel discord server for any announcements or questions and answers sections

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.”