When A Mage Revolts - Chapter 450: Hundred Meter Dash Assassination

He had always wished to live a new, ordinary life. That was his one and only wish.

But the world did not allow him to.

‘I wanted to live ordinarily, but you’re the ones who provoked me first!’

Who was the one who provoked the sleeping lion first?

It’s now time to witness the great Demon Master’s reproval of the modern times!

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When disaster struck, Ling Mo knew that the kinds of zombies depicted in doomsday movies would in fact, be totally different from reality…

She died with her eyes wide open, waiting by the river for three days and three nights, only to be greeted not by her husband, but by her benefactor. As she looked at the blurred figure, her heart was deeply moved, and she silently made a vow: if she could be reborn, she would definitely marry him!… Later, she really was reborn.

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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.”