A Slight Smile is Very Charming - Part 43 - Swimming, oh, swimming

What is a genius? Capable of comprehending any battle skill regardless of the skill itself and sweeping away the bottlenecks while cultivating a new technique; this is a true genius! He Yiming was originally an ordinary youngster in the He family’s estate with not too extraordinary aptitude in learning martial arts.

Aaron thought he was doomed when he transmigrated to Blue Star—a world eerily like Earth, but steeped in supernatural chaos. On the day of the Awakening Ceremony, where power is everything, he drew a blank. No talent, no hope, just a one-way ticket to mediocrity… or worse.Until *BAM!**[System Bound Successfully! Host, Welcome to the Lucky Spin System!]*With a single spin, Aaron’s fate flips: *SSS-rank Lucky Halo unlocked!* Another spin? *Vampire Primogenitor bloodline acquired!* One more? *Abyssal Dragon summoned as his ultimate ally!*Armed with a system that dishes out game-changing rewards every day, Aaron defies the odds, shocks the world, and claws his way to the top. In a realm ruled by talent, this nobody is rewriting destiny—one lucky spin at a time!

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.”