Fantasy Simulator - Chapter 219 Demon Seed

Take a look at the cover. Now take a look at the synopsis. Now take a look at the cover once again. Did you manage to see anything else outside of two big plots on it already? Then let me tell you this - if I'm willing to use this great cover for this novel, then surely as heck I am confident in the first chapter making you read more!

as a gamer, who knew the powers will be diversified in the world of Pirates and Navys?this is a story of a person who is thrown into the beautiful, but dangerous and horrendous world of One Piece, as the Holder of the System with the Job of a Gamer.

I want Hollywood to be the Hollywood I want – Lancelot Strelow
His life was full of ups and downs, rebellious, and brilliant. No one can deny his excellence. With hundreds of millions of box office in his left hand and countless trophies in his right, even the most critical film critics have to lower their heads, let alone It is said that countless movie fans all over the world worship him, leaving an indelible mark in this era.
But, he is a bastard.
He is a complete jerk, he relies on Hollywood to become famous, but he is a rebel in Hollywood, his disgusting personality makes him the public enemy of the entire Hollywood, he unscrupulously impacts everyone’s bottom line, and he stimulates everyone unrestrainedly With his nerves, he lightly challenged everyone’s authority, and his unrestrained talent was like a nightmare from which he would never wake up. However, no one could refuse him.
You can only avoid falling in love with him if you completely loathe him – The New York Times

- 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.”