Ze Tian Ji - Chapter 1154 – The Fisherman by Xining Village's Stream Uses His Spear

Young Master Lu says, “My wife knows nothing at all and has a bad temper. You’d better not bully her.” Gu Mang watches silently as this man warns everyone who comes his way.

At the genesis of the world, the ‘Dark God Entropy’ was defeated in the fight between the five other Gods, and was sealed.

Our protagonist, once a homeless child navigating the city's harsh realities, clawed his way towards a better life. He stole coins to buy knowledge. However, the prestigious university scholarship he craved was a rigged system, awarded to a politician's son who needed the name, not the education.Descends into a life of crime.After being forced to taint his pride his death is ordered with his own making the final blow.god “congratulations you're given a chance at a new life...”him “ why?”god “cause you had a tough life so im being generous... and making you reincarnate in a mana world...”him “ bullshit...”On the brink of oblivion, a dubious offer arrives – a second chance from a strange god. Haunted by the shadows of past 'generosity', Rei struggles with suspicion. Accepting means becoming a pawn, rejecting means eternal damnation. With no good options, Rei plays along, unaware his role thrusts him into a cosmic conflict.

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.”