Only I Am a Necromancer - Chapter 72: Changed People in the Changed World (4)

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When the Demons and Angels of the 99th floor detected a threat to their reign, they teamed up to topple the man who'd placed them in such a situation.

The Lord of Sins, a walking calamity of the Heaven's Spire, had put pressure on the transcendents no mortal had ever done.

However, before the Lord of Sins could revolt against their reign, the Demons and Angels decided to nip the threat in the bud.

Manipulating his clanmates, using other clans, controlling fate...

They used all powers available to them in an attempt to halt the advance of the Lord of Sins. Eventually, it worked, and the Lord of Sins fell from grace.

But it wasn't a happy ending for the vicious transcendents.

“I'll return one day, stronger than ever and as a force even you can't touch! I'll become the Lord of Sins again!”

The man returned to the past with a goal in mind.

Everything else was just an interference.

“Return of The Strongest Player” is a gripping tale of a man's ascendance. His journey back to the pinnacle of strength, the adversities blocking his path, and the comrades he eventually acknowledged.

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Zhou Mu finds himself remaining in a single-player VR game despite having decided to quit after platinum-ing the entire game. However, he realizes that the world has completely changed. Realizing life in the game is better, he continues on with his in-game name, William Kane.

“Why is the world united under my name? And what’s with the religion that honors me as their god? The royals are claiming to be my descendants? Was there ever such a function in the game? What have they done for the past 1000 years when I was gone?”

Zhou Mu was completely lost.

“Are you calling me a traitor? Aren’t you guys the ones who have been doing evil deeds in my name? Behold, for you shall witness this lost forbidden spell!”

I lived a mediocre life. Trapped in the simulation of everyday mundanity, the 'Matrix' you might call it. The world killed my dreams, hurt my innocence, but I moved on just fine, struggling everyday to keep living.Until it came out of nowhere, without warning: The Apocalypse.I fought to survive. I lived alone in a world where all dead humans turned to undead. But, there was only so little the average human could do against creatures with superhuman strength. So I died. It was the end.Or was it?“From one cage to another.”I opened my eyes to a world where normal reasoning was as good as garbage. A world ruled by men with superhuman strength. A medieval world with swords and... No magic. Just swords and weapons. But still, that medieval world was not so medieval. It was a crazy place, a world that I couldn't fully understand.So I decided. I'll live because I lack the resolve to end myself. I'll live because i'm a coward. I'll live because in the end, I'll die of old age anyway. But before I die, I'll figure out the truth and secrets of this world. Just for the sake of it.And what's the best way to see the world in its entirety? Of course, it's to stand at the highest summit. And that's exactly what I'm going to do. So watch me rise.

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.”