When The Top Hacker Becomes A Female Supporting Character, She Amazes The World - Chapter 491 - : Direct Confrontation

Every overbearing president will always have a coquettish, pure, or lively white moonlight in their hearts. They are the vicious female partners in the novel, the stepping stones of the heroine, and the tool to promote the feelings of the hero and heroine. In the end, because of jealousy, run-down and decay she became a coquettish bit*h that everyone hated. However, one day-after Su Luó , who is unreasonable, indifferent and calm came… the domineering president of every world would be desperate, heartbroken, and desperate to make a living. Love is like poison, making people crazy and go crazy..

- Description from Novelupdates

A reputation as ‘The Most Feared Gunslinger In the West’, and the Law hot on his heels, Henry Morgan had lived a full life. So when it all ended with a gunshot to the back of his head, he was quite ready. He embraced death… He embraced his end.Except it wasn’t the end…Some mysterious [Powerful Forces that be] wrenched him out of the world he knew and deposited him into the body of a version of himself in a Parallel world. A world where something as ‘impossible’ as Magic apparently exists.These [Powerful Forces that be] went a step further by granting Henry a System and issuing him strange prompts and Quests that send him down a road of Adventure and bloodshed all so he can etch his name in history and show this world and its many ‘wonders’ just how deadly a Gunslinger can be…

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.”