Hidden identities of the AI Heiress - Chapter 182 - : Feudal Superstitions, Not Allowed

Ishiki grew up staring at the Floating Cities — a distant paradise in the sky that gave humanity both hope and despair.And then, they fell.Not just one, but all of them.The heavens burned and with them the world crumbled, the Apocalypse descended upon mankind.Ishiki never wanted to be a hero, nor a savior. He was just glad to be alive.Until the Neural Matrix System chose him.As he was dying a Window appeared in front of him.[Congratulations You have been choosen as a Player]He was dragged into his first trial in the world of NEXUS. And he soon realized, he was destined to die there too.But he survived.Survival offered him the a Mythical Title... a power that came with ways to make his life more miserable.

Suddenly being able to travel to various familiar worlds, to grow and develop in these various high-risk worlds, you need to follow the following guidelines:

1: If you want to get rich, don’t be afraid of death. If you are afraid of death, you can only eat other people’s leftovers.

2: Don’t always try to save the world, it will be bad luck to be a Virgin in other planes.

3: Don’t let go of good things, maybe you will lose a great opportunity because of this.

4: Don’t wantonly flood your feelings, you can only bring back sadness if you can’t take away the girl.

……

- 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.”

Reborn as a sister of a villain with no blood or tears in a war-fiction novel. Anyway, that guy, who plays ‘my brother’ role, is a villain who will be sealed by the Main Lead after losing the war. So I just need to pretend to be his little sister until he disappears. No, at least that’s how I think … ‘Something in your right hand, is that the main lead’s head?’ My brother won the war. *** “What’s with the suitcase?” “Yes?” At the tip of Dietrich’s long finger, there was a package that I had wrapped up as soon as he left for the battlefield. “I asked what it is.” “It’s, It’s a travel bag, brother.” “Travel? Alone?” Dietrich’s dark eyes glistened. The man who had just returned from victory had a strange smell of blood from mu*der. “Will you leave me?”