The Sword Dynasty - Chapter 47Volume 7 - Forty-Seven: Great Means

I created a game character.Instead of taking several perks, I added restrictions.▶Restriction (I): “Curse of Sensory Seal”─Permanently seals a chosen sense.─Choice: Sight, Taste, Smell▶Restriction (II): “Curse of Short Life”─You are born with a body doomed to a short life.▶Restriction (III): “Curse of Silence”─Speaking causes you pain.When the next day came, I couldn’t see anything.

When he woke up, Zhou Sui became a low-level Qi refiner in the world of immortality. Fortunately, he obtained the most precious Gu god bowl, which can refine various Gu insects.

Refining the Spring and Autumn Gu can prolong life and make you immortal.

The refining golden cicada Gu can give birth to dead people, flesh and white bones.

Refining the Dragon Elephant Gu to gain the power of the Dragon Elephant, the body of the Dragon Elephant, and the indestructibility of the King Kong

But the Gu he refined for the first time was the Infatuation Gu.

From then on, he discovered a bright road to cultivation.

The years change, the mountains and rivers change, but I am the eternal Zhou family.

- Description from novelbuddy

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Kaine didn't have the best life on earth: no friends, no family, no lover.

The only thing that he liked was the novel he read daily, “Descent of the Heavenly Demon”.

But what was Kaine's reaction when an astral entity told him that he died in his sleep and that he would be reincarnated somewhere with a system.

As you guessed it, he is now in the world of the novel he read with all the information he needs to live a good life.

But...

[Anger issues detected, rewarding accordingly]

“What do you mean anger issues?”

[Hatred System activated.]

……………………………………………………………

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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.”