High School of Demon Hunting - Chapter 40 - Harmless Little Elves_1

In a world where monsters dominate, and humans are but one out of ten thousand of the population, Gao Yang, having transmigrated to this world at the tender age of six and led the life of a normal boy until his eighteenth birthday, must seek the truth and survive against all odds—with the help of a mysterious system, a bottom-of-the-list Talent, and the companions he meets along the ways.

What is hidden under the facade of an ordinary city and its ordinary occupants? What are these different manners of monsters, and where is the line drawn between monsters and humans? Could relationship and love be true when all are merely playing their own parts?

Ride along on his journey and find out!

Official blurb translated from Chinese:

An orphan, Gao Yang transmigrated to a parallel world at the age of six, and he was given the gift of a loving family of five.

However, with the coming of his eighteenth birthday, Gao Yang found out by chance that this is no parallel world, but a strange domain where his family and friends can all be terrifying monsters! He almost got killed when he realized the truth, and he would, if not for the system and Talent he acquired at the last moment, Lucky—the longer he lives, the stronger he will become!

Now commenced the battle royale of a lamb among wolves…

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She, a renowned assassin of the 21st century, actually crossed over to become Su Manor’s most useless good-for-nothing Fourth Miss.

He, Jin Empire’s imperial highness, was an emotionless overbearing demonic tyrant with unrivaled talent.

Everyone knew that she was idiotic and good-for-nothing and bullied her as they pleased. But only he, the overbearing tyrant with the discerning eye, wouldn’t let go of her even if his life depended on it.

For the time being, let’s just see how the stubborn versus stubborn clash and play out in this good show of the chaser and the chased.

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.”

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