North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws - Chapter 67 - 66: Harvest_1

A heaven-defying ring that allows objects to be brought back from games into reality!

“∞” is the symbol for infinity.What would happen if one possessed infinite skill points?Living life anew, with infinite skill points and any skill instantly at full level, Zhong Lin wants to see who is above the nine heavens.-------------This is the story of an ordinary person traversing into a different world, slaughtering all adversaries with infinite skill points.

Jiang Chen transmigrates into a different world which is full of monsters and demons. And through Class Transfers, humans could clear dungeons, level up by slaying Monsters, gain experience, and enhance their strength to protect their homeland.Jiang transfers to a D-level swordsman and awakens a system.【Hundredfold increase ····· Amplification successful】【Sword Qi Surging Amplification loading ····· Amplification hundredfold】“Is he really a swordsman? Why can his Sword Qi reach a terrifying 40 meters?”“He definitely isn't a swordsman, his Sword Qi can defend automatically.”“What the hell is True Qi?”

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.”