Mated to the Mad Lord - Chapter 255: Two options

Hao Ren, an ordinary university student, saved a little girl who fell from the sky. By accident, he swallowed a “candy” that fell off of that girl’s body and somehow became the Dragon King’s son-in-law……

His life was turned upside-down from that point on.

There were dragons in this world? And they are living side-by-side with humans? Ancient Chinese Mythologies really happened?

Hao Ren got to experience a new world that was hidden from ordinary humans. Despite the thrills that came with the new discovery, there were challenges along the way.

He thought his easy life as the Dragon King’s son-in-law was going to be laid back, but conspiracies and undercurrents were coming his way.

Nameless Traveler, “If you could bring the martial arts, Inner Strength, Daoist skills, Divine Skills, and other abilities you've learned in the game into reality, would you play such a game?”Gamer, “Of course, I would play. Is there really such a great thing?”Nameless Traveler, “Then, if you were to die in the game, and you would also die in reality, would you still play?”Gamer, “Let me think about it—um, I think I would play, as long as I'm careful to avoid provoking higher-level monsters.”Nameless Traveler, “What if the game was so difficult that a Little Monster at the entrance of a village could easily chop you down, would you still play?”Gamer, “……”

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.”

On this land of real souls, with millions of different martial art institutions, there’re so many strong fighters just like the trees in the forests.