I Became A Supporting Character - Chapter 30 The Protagonist Meets The Villain

¬ This story isn't mine, I just want to post it here so I can read in this app.

He’s in the deepest part of the Jianghu. Keep your eyes wide open if you do not wish to get dragged into the abyss.

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From the depths of a deep and blissful slumber, Chu Yu awoke to the vague sense of someone beside her. Among four of five men that she saw sleeping around her when she awoke, one in particular, caught her eye.'Who is he?'With his unrivaled elegance and the air of supremacy around him, he gazed upon the princess and asked, “What's wrong, Princess? Did you have a nightmare?”And with that, an uncontrollable chill rose up her spine that made her shiver despite the warmth of the room.Is it a joke? Or is it destiny?

Hey! Yes, it’s you! Where are you going in such a hurry? Oh, I know, I know life is not easy, but do n’t try too hard.

You ask me what I am doing here? Haha, I just sit here and tell some old-fashioned stories about wizards, dragons … you know, those things that have appeared in our dreams.

Hey, guess what, if you are not so anxious, why not sit down and listen to them?

Although I think I am not a good storyteller, I can guarantee that this story is absolutely my heart!

Come listen, maybe, it can make you dream again, those that have long been forgotten by us … legend.

- Description from Qidian

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.”