Warning : Providence the Beauty is Driven to Villainy - Chapter 17

[Can the devil’s music bring happiness to the world?]From Jimmy Hendrix to Rachmaninoff, all the historical musicians who he meets in his dreams.The devil that presents itself as a little boy in love with singing.The devil’s blessing, given to such a tiny child.In the blessings of many devils,The boy’s song for the world begins.

The worst and strongest villain.I became the narrow-eyed character Arsene Adel.“Revenge.”It sounded good.At least to the original owner of the body.But from my point of view, the goal is not revenge, but survival.I didn’t have the confidence to survive among humans, soㅡI went to the Demon Realm.Where I was headed,A school for demons that is said to be attended by the children of prestigious families in the demon world,……It was a school that terrorized the human world.

Traveling through the world of Genshin Impact, Li Xingshan accidentally activates “Evil Simulator”

Had to be a big badass in The Sims.

“Shen He, you don’t want Chongyun to be expelled from school, do you?”

“Captain Qin, you don’t want Barbara to be an idol, do you?”

“Gan Yu, you don’t want these photos to be seen by others, do you?”

“Lei Movie, you don’t want Guo Beng to be bullied at school, right?”

…………

In order to make up for the evil things done in the Sims, Li Xingshan can only accumulate virtue and do good in reality.

Who knew that one day, Shen He, holding a long spear, appeared in front of him: “Li Xingshan, if you have done all the bad things, I will kill you today and do justice for the heavens!”

Li Xingshan: ? ? Wait, aren’t those fake?

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”