The Police Called Me For The Filing, Revealing Me, A Master - Chapter 1049_End - : Human Immortal Cultivators, Charge Out of the Earth! (End) (2)

He put one hand on the door beside her head before leaning forward. What was he doing? Trying to intimidate her again?

Forced to bind the cannon fodder system by the Lord God, Mu Yunge was abused to the point of doubting her life, and she vowed that one day she would counterattack the Lord God and avenge him!

But after her anti-control system returned to the old world, whenever her acting skills exploded and she was about to torture the hero and heroine to death, there was always a strong villain Boss, who frantically expressed her love to her!

The villain, I’m just a cannon fodder, okay? Please let go!

In this regard, the villain said domineeringly: You have only two choices, be my daughter-in-law, or let me be your husband! Other than that, you have no choice!

- Description from novelbuddy

Felix was reincarnated as Lindarion Sunblade, a prince of Eldorath, destined for greatness—or so they say. In a world where magic, swordsmanship, and archery reign supreme, power is everything, and the strong shape history. But strength isn’t given, it’s earned.With a System awakening within him, one that pushes his limits with deadly quests sometimes, helps him with skills, and helps with forging weapons into legendary artifacts, he refuses to be just another noble in a gilded cage.Trials await, enemies lurk in the shadows, and even among his own kind, power breeds conflict.But he will rise. Not just as a prince—but as a ruler, a warrior, and a legend over the entire world.

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.”