Great Demon Sun Wukong - Chapter 6 - Bodhi

One day, a gallery appeared before my eyes.…And then I was able to see who wrote in the gallery.All the heroines are ‘virg*ns’.

What happens when a scientist from a futuristic world reincarnates in a World of Magic and Knights? An awesome MC is what happens! A scientist’s goal is to explore the secrets of the universe, and this is exactly what Leylin sets out to do when he is reincarnated. Dark, cold and calculating, he makes use of all his resources as he sets off on his adventures to meet his goal. Face? Who needs that… Hmmm… that guy seems too powerful for me to take on now… I better keep a low profile for now. You want me to help you? Sure… but what benefit can I get out of it? Nothing? Bye. Hmmm… that guy looks like he might cause me problems in the future. Should I let him off for now and let him grow into someone that can threaten me….. Nahhh. *kill*-

Alternative: Leylin is transported from an advanced technological era into a medieval world— except there’s magic. Equipped with “only” his quick wits and an A.I. chip fused to his soul, he sets out to become the most powerful magus the world has ever known. In a land divided into the Light and Dark Magi, the weak can either be cattle or disposable slaves. Only the strong can determine their lives, and only they have the luxury for virtue. Yet strength is only a tool for Leylin, like any other. His goal, in the end, is his own.

Obtaining ancient inheritance, the small farmer embarks on a path of prosperity. Let me show you the power of a small farmer!

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.”