MTL - Quickly Wear the Face of the Devil - Chapter 100 10.5

Saying 5000 year-old-dragon has an impressive ring to it, yet that dragon was an extremely harmless, herbivorous being. However, because of his uselessly giant figure and scary appearance, he was mistaken for the Demon King’s executive and provided by the nearby village with a sacrificial maiden.

Fundamentally cowardly and timid dragon tried to send her away, but the extremely enthusiastic sacrifice didn’t want to give up. Inevitably, he lied: “Okay, I just ate a small portion of your soul, so you can go back already”, but the maiden with outrageous assumptions has misunderstood that she became the dragon’s kin.

Then, out of all things, she began to manifest strange power on the basis of her wrong assumptions – in turn, the helpless dragon, by some mistake started a rebellion against the Demon King.

Rebellion or whatnot, he wasn’t even his subordinate in the first place.

Ever since an NPC named Shu ChunChun, who had been taken advantage of and used carelessly by the world-hoppers, awakened her consciousness, she knew that the only way to drive out the world-hoppers was to make them fall for her, HARD.

- Description from Novelupdates

The story about a family's struggle to ensure that, above all else, their youngest escapes from the mines where he was born into slavery. Follow Alistar as he struggles through terror and tragedy, embarking on a road to discover himself and his heritage.

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.”