The Last King Of Darkness - Chapter 1164 - 596: Secrets (Part 2)

I exist in the darkness, disappear under the bright light, and will eventually devour the sun and turn into the shadow of all things… Known by people as the indescribable terror of darkness; the king of shadows; the dark day; the existence of the shadow of the world , is still just a somewhat special high school student, facing a weird death game…

- Description from novelbuddy

First-Generation God King Tang San, with a trace of divine consciousness, roamed the universe, searching for the world where his wife had reincarnated. Guided by that divine consciousness, he arrived at a place called Demon Monster Land, only to find that it was a world where humans were as lowly as livestock…

A world where the [Demon King] was defeated by a [Hero] that came from another world. People carelessly forgot about their fear of the [Demon King] and of monsters, living in peace.

In a forgotten and run-down cave in the mountains, a new monster that should not have been born was given birth.

The monster’s name was the [Black Ooze]. It was nothing exceptional other than its black color, an ordinary slime.

However, this slime had the special characteristic of being able to take the abilities of the living things it swallowed. It preyed on an insect that had paralytic poison, as well as other animals. Following that, it attacked a human, obtaining his knowledge and [Desire].

Before long, the monster established its target as the female mage that came to explore the cave.

This world still wasn’t aware.

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.”