Little Prodigal Alliance Head - Chapter 99.2: Trapped

The ancient empire was on its last legs, the nascent federation echoed with the roar of steam, slumbering gods gradually awoke, and colossal beasts that vanished in the primordial era were slowly emerging.When Laine arrived in another world, a magical profession panel awakened within him as well.Laine believed that if a person's life could keep growing stronger, one day they would certainly be able to control their own destiny and stand shoulder to shoulder with the gods!

“Is this a game, or did aliens make me time-travel?”

“It’s terrifying, people who die in the game actually die in the real world!”

“Damn, the whole city is mine, and there are still things that can be brought from the game to the real world, it’s just…”

Song Jian aimlessly wandered through the empty city, accompanied only by mutated zombies and monsters. His only goal now was to survive in such a zombie-infested Doomsday City.

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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.”

Reyhan Alther died at the age of 20 and was reincarnated… as the wind. Formless and directionless, he drifted through a new world filled with wonder and cruelty. But from that breeze, everything began. With a mysterious power called the Divine Spirit System, Reyhan slowly rose—guiding spirits, gathering followers, and changing the course of the world. From a lonely gust, he became a figure known as Father… even to the gods.A battle of fate awaits. But before that, there's still time for the wind to whisper… and maybe crack a small joke or two.