Transformed into Cosmic Horror in a Sci-Fi Universe - Chapter 25: Contact

Ally level 8,6,6,6! Enemy level 6,5,4…0?

Chen Yuan transmigrated and became a Mountain Patrol Military Officer.The eight hundred miles of Langdang Mountain is his pasture.Unfortunately, the Great Qian Dynasty is in its final years, with its fate collapsing.Demonic disasters plague the land, bringing devastation to all living beings. The human world becomes a battleground, entering the mortal realm to face calamities.Monstrous beings and malevolent spirits take the stage, disrupting the martial world.Chen Yuan, armed with the Tiger Talisman for Mountain Moving, patrols on behalf of heaven, cutting down mountains and destroying temples.In the eight hundred miles of Langdang Mountain, demons and monsters shall not appear!

Everyone knows that the popular entertainer Song Linchuan is crazy about his little aunt. Since the beginning of his career, he has mentioned her on various occasions.

During an interview with a reporter, he was asked, “What kind of girl do you find most adorable?”

He replied, “Someone like my little aunt.”

The reporter was puzzled.

During a fan visit, someone asked him, “What are your plans after filming this drama?”

He replied, “I’m going back to see my little aunt.”

The fans were confused.

As people across the internet were curious about Song Linchuan’s mysterious little aunt, he brought her on a lifestyle variety show. When she appeared on camera, everyone was shocked to see that she was just a pretty girl in her late teens.

On the show, the young girl had an old-fashioned way of speaking and manners, despite her young age.

When Song Linchuan was too busy to eat on time, she said sternly, “Your body is your most valuable asset. Don’t neglect to eat on time, or you’ll get stomach problems!”

When he stayed up late playing games, she scolded him, “Young people should enjoy their games in moderation. Staying up late is not good for your health!”

The netizens teased Song Linchuan, but they also agreed with his little aunt’s advice.

At a fashion magazine photo shoot, Song Linchuan’s shirt collar was a bit low. The young girl approached him and said seriously, “As a boy, how can you dress so revealingly?”

The netizens laughed and said, “Haha, his little aunt is correcting him on how to be a man!”

Meanwhile, another popular entertainer, Pei Kuang, visited Song Linchuan’s house while he was filming a lifestyle show. As soon as he entered, Song Linchuan pulled him over to meet his little aunt.

Song Linchuan said, “Pei Kuang, this is my dear little aunt. Don’t just stand there, she’s your little aunt too. Call her!”

Pei Kuang was speechless.

A few years later, paparazzi caught Pei Kuang walking with a girl who looked like Song Linchuan’s little aunt, Song Anan. They looked intimately close, and everyone online called out to Song Linchuan, “Look, your good friend is about to become your little uncle!”

At that time, Song Linchuan was in the middle of filming in the deep mountains and had no idea what was happening.

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.”