Swordsmeister of Rome - Chapter 96: Guards

Every overbearing president will always have a coquettish, pure, or lively white moonlight in their hearts. They are the vicious female partners in the novel, the stepping stones of the heroine, and the tool to promote the feelings of the hero and heroine. In the end, because of jealousy, run-down and decay she became a coquettish bit*h that everyone hated. However, one day-after Su Luó , who is unreasonable, indifferent and calm came… the domineering president of every world would be desperate, heartbroken, and desperate to make a living. Love is like poison, making people crazy and go crazy..

- Description from Novelupdates

Medieval times, warring knights, dragons, demons, gods, pirates, behemoths...Barbaric, ignorant, backward, numb, starvation widespread, people unable to make a living...Damn it! Punch to explode this era!!Reclaiming wilderness, farming, bridge building, road paving, coal mining, excavating minerals!Leveling up, recruiting apostles, forging an army!Barrage troops! Pushing horizontally!Quack! My steel torrent is invincible in this world!!Roman: “I am your destiny! Kneel before me!”So, you were supposed to farm, but somehow you ended up establishing a vast empire and becoming the emperor?

As 21 years old Noah closes his eyes for what he thinks will be eternity, he wakes up in the body of a girl 7 years younger than him.Vasilisa, as she is known, is hated and mistreated by the people around her because of the Muddy Tongue curse which not only impedes her speech, but makes her magic unstable.This effectively makes her the harder than hard mode when it comes to reincarnation, and, of course, fate made her his “avatar” in this new world full of mechanics he only ever saw in video games.Despite this, Noah as decided…Whether as Vasilisa or himself, this time he will find a way to exist for the world.

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.”