The Genius Female Forensic Pathologist, The Psychological Anatomist - Chapter 88: The Couple Butchers: Hypocritical Love

Chen Lun traveled to the year before the game’s public beta and became an NPC in the game world.

And so, a new version was born…

Steampunk, spooky things, churches, shelters, the sequence paths of the seven righteous gods…

He put on his black top hat and stood on top of the ruins.

Standing behind him are the villain bosses of various versions in the previous life, the dead nun Floyd, the bloody painter Noah, the sword fighter Antonio, the delusional clown Alex…

Chen Lun: “Player spawns monsters, I spawn players, this is in the Taihe River…”

…

Also known as “Rational Use of This Sustainable Resource Named Players”, “These BOSS are really strong but they are all my younger brothers”, “No way! So I can also become a god? ! “

- Description from novelbuddy

Ryu Han-bin, the main character who fell into a new world after being chosen as a ‘suitable person’.

Because of the error in the guidelines, the training is repeated endlessly…

The world was once at war with 10 alternate worlds. This was known as the Concept War and our world won 60 years ago. All of this was concealed so no normal people are aware of this fact in the current time.

After the death of his grandfather, the high-school student Sayama Mikoto is suddenly summoned by the giant corporation IAI. He learns this world is headed for destruction due to the acceleration of the Minus Concepts. To prevent this, negotiations must be undertaken with the survivors of the other parallel worlds so their 10 concepts can be released.

And so Sayama is caught up in the final battle to clean up after the Concept War which left behind so much enmity.

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.”