The Newt and Demon - Chapter 17: The Bell

A failed investor from 2017 got drunk and woke up in the 1980s. China is just opening up, and the economy is blooming. There is also the dissolution of the Soviet Union, the bursting of the Dot-com bubble and other financial crisis. He used his knowledge of the future and slowly build up his empire.

- Description from novelupdates

The God of Magic stopped blessing his believers.

The Tower of Magic, where the mages gathered and worshiped him was destroyed.

Magic Fell.

The surviving Mages were looked down upon by the rest of the world.

Normal Mages, that is.

The Mages from the Strongest Magic Family, the Vesta Family, were an exception.

For 5000 years, the Vesta Family continued to produce exceptional Mages that were strong enough to resist other forces which came after their family heritage and treasures even without the Blessing of the God of Magic.

Now, however, the Vesta Family found themselves in a difficult situation where they didn’t have a single capable heir.

That was until, Christopher Davis, an underworld Gang Leader, transmigrates into the body of Vaan Astra Vesta, a well-known pushover and the ‘waste’ of the Vesta Family.

Christopher, now Vaan, soon realized that he could see otherworldly magic spirits with knowledge so vast that the Magic books that the Vesta Family treasured for 5000 years were nothing in comparison.

That, combined with Vaan’s own God-like Talent,

The ‘Hope’ was born.

A prodigy strong enough to not only protect the Vesta Family and its treasures,

A prodigy who will restore Magic to its former glory was born.

“Haa!? Who da fuck said a Mage can’t use fists!? That crab-like face of yours, I’ll punch it till it is deformed into something better looking!”

And of course, Christopher’s gangster-like tendencies won’t just disappear.

……………………………………………………………

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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.”

Transmigrating to the disciples of the Demon Sect, and relying on the skill modifier to become a giant of the Demon Dao.

[Detected the technique “Blood Nerve”, relying on devouring blood to practice]

[Side effects: easily affected by the spirit contained in the blood, becoming bloodthirsty, bloodthirsty, mad, and even brain dead]

[Please wait a moment, the system is being modified…]

[Ding! The modification is complete, and the side effects are cancelled]

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