MTL - I Became an In-game NPC - Chapter 1 Nine deaths

Fade was a legendary assassin that could kill just about anyone, as long as the price was right and the reason was just.

One day as he was reminiscing about his life when he lost someone important, he fell asleep. When he woke up he was in a weird place, a different body, a different world.

Ye Feng was transported to a cultivation world, but unfortunately had no hope of cultivating immortality and could only live as an ordinary mortal. He only wished to live a peaceful life.Yet he didn’t know—The dog he adopted, because it ate his food, became a legendary demon king.The kitchen knife he casually forged became a peerless divine weapon, causing numerous experts to fight desperately for it.The young disciple he took in became an immortal lord that led an era, due to cultivating the techniques Ye Feng taught him.Even the skeletons he looked down on the most were ominous demon kings that suppressed countless worlds.Many years later, looking at the void shattered with a punch, Ye Feng murmured to himself: It turns out the peerless kings were myself all along…

“World” is a game renowned for its remarkable freedom.

In “version 3.0”, I made the decision to maximize my focus on boosting magical abilities!

All stats now revolve around magic! But In turn, I embraced a substantial number of disadvantageous traits.

However, that is inconsequential. I am determined to forge the ultimate Wizard character, It matters little whether the character’s outward appearance resembles a walking corpse.

Yet… What is this?

I have suddenly transformed into that very character – a character with prodigious talent, yet unable to survive a single day without relying on drugs.

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.”