Apocalypse: Transmigrated with an Overlord System - Chapter 109: The target has appeared

In the Sky Sword Continent there are thousands of sects and strong cultivators as common as trees. In order to prevent his older sister from being forcefully married off, Lu Xuan had no choice to but to unceasingly cultivate and enter a sect to ask for a favor. By chance, a sword-shaped crystal of mysterious origins entered into Lu Xuan’s body, containing countless top-class martial skills, powerful martial arts, and everything you could wish for! A martial legend starts here…

Many islands dotted the vast oceans of this world. However, some of the islands were a lot more sinister than the rest. Those islands, known as Nightmare Islands, were true nightmares to all but the strongest and most fortunate. Children were kidnapped and thrown on these isolated islands by the Nightmare Palace, forced to sign soul pacts with evil soul pets: Nightmares. These devils slowly devoured the souls of their trainers to grow stronger. If the children did not cultivate fast enough, their souls will be devoured whole, leaving only an empty husk behind.

Chu Mu, the protagonist, was an heir to the Chu Clan, but due to a plotted murder, he was thrown on the island, sentencing him to almost certain death. Dancing on the edge of life and death, he struggled to survive with a small Moonlight Fox he captured. When he finally escaped the devilish foremen on his island, he couldn’t help but let a breath out. But little does he know, the experience was only a beginning to a fated journey with his little Moonlight Fox…

The legendary mana finally reached planet Earth, causing all living things to officially enter the path of evolution.

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.”