The Pleasure Lord - Chapter 20 Lindon

Hero Zhang Han was frustrated in life originally, but he stepped into the Cultivation World by a stroke of luck. Possessing divine natural gifts, he ascended into the disaster-crossing period step by step. He had imagined his life would not have any hardships anymore, but unfortunately incurred the god thunder since he violated the fate. After he woke up, he was surprised to find that he was reborn, going back a few years ago. He found that the world was different from what it used to be after his rebirth and he had a lovely daughter.

As if it wasn’t enough for me to be reincarnated as a child in the slums, I was taken to a city of crime and became a test subject. But then, when I saw the man that came to destroy the research institute, I realized that this was the world of an angst-filled reverse harem novel.

While living a relatively normal life after escaping from the institute, the heroine of the novel moved in next door. From the looks of it, I might be the heroine’s neighbor extra. Originally, the heroine was to save the unconscious and fatally wounded villain and in return, be subject to a fanatical obsession.

But, why. Why is the sub-villain collapsed in front of my house?

The sub-villain, Lakis Avalon, was the king of the underworld and the very same frightening man that I had met at the institute before.

“…”

I took a moment’s glance around then I kicked the man’s body away.

You’ve got the wrong house, Villain.

At six, Jiang Huai stubbornly clung to the thighs of the fairy in white and wouldn’t let go. She took him back to the mountain and made him her only direct disciple.At fifteen, he changed his way of addressing his master from ‘mother’ to ‘sister,’ and after being severely beaten, he corrected himself to ‘Master’. Jiang Huai harbored a grudge in his heart for a full six years.At twenty-one, he learned how to talk back to his master.

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.”