The Royal Contract - Chapter 1356: A beautiful butterfly

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.”

“You’re not taking me to bed. Ever.”

He was the one who would become the greatest monarch in history.

“The spot you had climbed once, there’s nothing you can’t climb again.”

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On the way to a company workshop, we fell into a world of immortal cultivators while still in the car.

Those with spiritual roots and unique abilities were all called to join cultivation sects, living prosperously.

But I, having neither spiritual roots nor special abilities, lived as an ordinary mortal for 50 years, complying with fate until my death.

That’s what I thought.

Until I regressed.