Be Careful What You Wish For: A Zombie Apocalypse - Chapter 108: Silent But Deadly

Jack Somnus was a mid-wealth professor of economics and a trading advisor for the powerful Johnson family. But after years of working for the Johnsons, he was abandoned without a word. He was laid off without as much as a severence package. Jack’s life got worse when he lost his wife. Depressed and alone, he got into an unfortunate accident. Instead of dying, he travels back in time to his teenage years. Now, Jack has a second chance to live the life he always wanted. He wants to be the one who controls, not the one being controlled. But his time travel hides a deeper secret, one that might throw him for a loop. [WARNING: CONTAINS EXPLICIT EROTIC SCENES]

The Heavenly Voice was bestowed upon the world, and so the calendar of the Great Dao began. The world entered a new age of digitized cultivation. Humanity activated the immortal destiny seal to become cultivators.

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.”