She Is From The Countryside - Chapter 543

Get the power of the steel chain fingers in “JOJO”, form your own family force, and completely subvert the world of pirates!

I am BIG.BOSS, Mafia Victor!

- Description from novelbuddy

Being sucked into a fantasy world that nobody leaves doesn't sound half bad to Cain. He was a high school dropout with a drinking problem, living off disability due to his poor health, so it's not like he had much to lose except a few faithful friends he didn't talk to enough.

After a long night of drinking, Cain wakes up looking at what he believes to be the character creation screen of one of his beloved virtual reality games, but with no recollection of having purchased it. His unwitting choice to use the Random Character Creation option, unaware that the choice would be irreversible, sends him into this new world as a Puppet Master, a Summoning based class nobody else in the starting zone has ever heard of.

But as he soon realizes, this is no game, him and hundreds of others have been brought to another world with no instructions, no clear goals and no way home. It's a second chance to live a good life, but what will Cain be able to make of it?

The devil would love you only in his own way: “Remember, don’t look at me, don’t hold me, and don’t kiss me! Turn your face away, as long as you lie down obediently and quietly! ” Just lie down obediently? What did he take her for? An inflatable wife?

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.”