The Crimson Reaper - Chapter 45: Luciel, the Babysitter (3)

When a glowing portal yanks Leo from his struggling existence, he is saved by a mysterious system which gifts him new chance to break free from his side character experienceRebuilding an abandoned guild to honor his family’s legacy, Leo finds himself under the evil eyes of monsters, both from humanity and the gates he ventures intoin short : overpowered necromancer building a guild.

In the year 2139, the world changed. Fundamentally and irrevocably.

Everything happened too quickly. The sky cracked like an egg and armored dinosaur-like monsters lurched out of the fissure. The split, though small at first, quickly widened. Within a few short hours, these beasts had overrun the world.

Countries, even those who had been enemies for centuries, sounded a global alarm. Political differences were cast aside as humans scrambled to find a solution—any solution—to what became known as the Great Disaster 1.0.

Human experimentations began, first in reluctance, then in earnest. As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, failure rates remained high. Desperate for results, global authorities started turning a blind eye to how experimental subjects were sourced.

Countless victims were kidnapped and trafficked to state-run laboratories. Shi Tian was but one of them. But unlike those who died nameless, in pain, and unrecognizable, he had the fortune of surviving after being injected with humanity’s last hope—an integrated chip.

Except… the chip remained dormant. It seemed that certain circumstances must be met before the chip could be activated. What those circumstances were, even the scientists in charge could not answer.

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Chen Chuan has transmigrated into a martial world and today is the day when he takes his entrance test for the most renowned academy in his city.With no prior martial training, his confidence stems from his second self, capable of absorbing damage and enhancing the power of his strikes.

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.”