The Dragon King's Hated Bride - Chapter 8: Despair

In the Da Li Dynasty, there exist humans, demons, ghosts, and deities.The court oppresses cultivators, while monsters run rampant in the world, causing suffering to the people.Li Fan, under the command of his master, leaves the mountain to slay demons but finds himself caught in a great storm of events.-------------------As the sword leaves the mountain, the world trembles.I have nine swords, each with its own spirit!

In the Cyberpunk era, the Corporate Alliance dominated the world, with humans and witches alike serving as corporate cash cows, enslaved by advanced technology.Changes were thus unveiled, and Xu Yang, refusing to become a corporate slave, resolved to flee. He intended to rescue the adorable yet powerful witches from the clutches of the giant corporations, embarking on a path of innovation!

Ten years ago, John and his parents were transported into a game world.This young man, full of ambition to conquer the world, unfortunately awakened the weakest class—Furniture Maker.But what troubled John most wasn’t his class.Like most transmigrators, he had a system.The only problem was—This system kept granting him strange and absurd skills.[Ding! Congratulations, Host! You’ve acquired a concept-level skill: Absolute Diarrhea Technique. Your basic attacks will cause opponents to suffer explosive diarrhea until complete exhaustion. Any creature without an anus is unworthy of being your enemy!][Ding! Congratulations, Host! You’ve acquired a concept-level skill: Mummification Wrapping Technique. Bandages crafted by you can heal all things!][Ding! Congratulations, Host! You’ve acquired a concept-level skill: You may steal and copy the abilities of anyone named John!][Ding! Congratulations, Host! You’ve acquired a bonus concept-level skill: You may forcibly rename anyone to John!]…Years later, in the Divine Realm, a lone figure stood tall above the heavens.As the sacred hymns echoed, he raised a finger—And all the gods clenched their anuses in fear.

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.”