The Unvanquished: Child of Nihility - Chapter 30: Battling The Royal Monster

Her parents died in planned accident by her uncle. They used her in every way they can. They planned to sue her so she wont take her fathers company back. They want to destroy her life making her penniless. No one knows that she is the not the same girl who was played as puppet in their hands. Five years changed her a lot. Now she is a hidden genius still acting pityfull to take revenge.

“Are you going to shoot me, baby?““Don“t tempt me.“.He killed her parents and left her orphaned. She lived all her life building her strength. She had one mission: revenge. Kill Anthony Murray at all costs. When she is assigned to go undercover and destroy his organization will she be able to keep herself from destroying him or will she jump in front of the bullets that are shot hi...

I possessed the weakest character in my favorite game’s Hell Mode. I want to survive, but the way the main character is being controlled is atrocious.

It can’t be helped.

I have to stop the bad ending myself.

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.”