Punished by his hidden love - Chapter 4277: Illusionary Happiness (7)

Transform into Divine Dragon and dominate the world!
He is the only Divine Dragon in the sea who founded an underwater Dragon Palace.
With Crawfish Soldiers and Crab Generals as his followers, wild sharks and gigantic octopuses as his subordinates, he is the dragon that rules the city.

- Description from Novelupdates

Traveling through American Comics, Su Ming changes from an ordinary person to a world-famous mercenary and assassin.Just when he tries to get some information of this world, he encounters another Deathstroke.

In my previous life, I was a pawn, highlighting Henry Preston's deep affection for another woman, ultimately leading to a tragic end with a broken family and a desolate fate.After being reborn, I found that letting go and doing nothing felt the most comfortable, so I decided not to intervene and just wait for Henry Preston to propose a divorce.But the situation developed a bit strangely; the man who was never home in the past life started coming back frequently. He also seemed worried that I might cheat on him.“Do you believe that in the near future, you'll be eager for me to disappear?” I asked.“Stop dreaming,” he replied. “We'll torment each other to death.”I sighed, confident in my knowledge as someone reborn, that Henry Preston would soon meet his true love.Finally, he and she met, and I thought my freedom was just a step away.However, he quietly asked back, “Who said I was going to divorce?”Not only did he refuse to divorce, but he also started paying more and more attention to me, even abandoning his true love!

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.”