Vile Rabbit - Chapter 127: day

“Gate Hunter,” a virtual reality game based on the modern hunter genre.

In that game, Kim Woojin overwhelmingly ranked No. 1.

〈Player.〉

〈Congratulations.〉

〈You have exceeded our standards and shown potential.〉

[Notification: The final stage, Stage 6, has been unlocked!]

With that message, he finds himself reincarnated as the son of a wealthy Chaebol within the game. But there’s a catch—he possesses no physical talent, only boundless wealth and a terrible body.

‘Fortunately, there’s a solution.’

In this world, a master’s talent doesn’t limit their summons, and equipment can be augmented. And the class capable of summoning the most powerful allies is…

“Necromancer, isn’t it?”

Say goodbye to the poor necromancers!

A true Chaebol Necromancer has arrived!”

After failing his college entrance exam, Li Yang had dropped out and started to support his first love. Yet after her graduation from university, she dumped him immediately.Now Li accidently takes other's chance to travel back to his high school years. With the exam answers remembered, Li decides to embark on a different path.

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.”

Gods and demons are everywhere in the Grand Desolate World.