Before I Died, I Forcibly Kissed The Heroine - Chapter 295: The New Function of Beautiful Landscape Painting! Su Shi, you big liar!

I was born in Japan and inherited a temple at the beginning.The system is activated at the beginning, which can enhance everything.“Ordinary Buddhist Scripture” enhanced to “Medicine Buddha Sutra”Recite the sutra ten thousand times, and you will become a Vajra!“Vajra Pestle” strengthens “Vajra Indestructible Root”The most rigid and masculine, indestructible!“Eight Divisions of Heavenly Dragons” enhanced to “Great Heavenly Dragon Visualization Method”Great Heavenly Dragon, Prajna Buddha!The widow haunted by evil spirits, the eight-foot-tall adult…“I don’t know if I can bear it.”“Demon, I want you to help me practice!”

In the 15th year of Lolan’s independence, Luo En transmigrated to this world. But because his system needed six months to load, he had to make use of his own know-how to open a bar in the city and use the bar to familiarize himself with this new universe he was in.

But the location of the bar was poor, so the only customer he had was a man named Charles. This man was a very strange one who enjoyed asking Luo En about the country. He would ask about matters concerning the military, the people, and any other topic that would have seemed potentially treasonous.

“What sort of person do you think the current king of Lolan is?

“Which side do you think is more likely to win the war between Lolan and Waoh?

“Which of the king’s sons do you think is most suitable to be the next king?

Charles’ questions were always so bold.

Luo En was always on the verge of rolling his eyes. As a top student of the 21st century who was well versed in military matters and history, these brainless questions were an insult to his intelligence

But since Charles always spent so much money here, he decided to just answer some of Charles’ questions.

“The current king of Lolan is a good king who’s hard to come by. His legacy will definitely go down in history!

“Before him, Lolan was a divided nation where the aristocrats took control of everything, oppressing the people and making their lives difficult. White Horse City and Sunset City were filled with poor and hungry people, even selling their children to make ends meet and eating absolutely anything they could find. It was such a tragedy.

“Thankfully, the current king united the country and gave the people a peaceful and stable environment to live in. At the same time, he set new laws to help the people come out of their post-war poverty…

“So, I think the current king is a truly wise man, a good king who comes once every millennium!

After hearing these words, the king in disguise at the bar felt his heart palpitate. “You know me the best!

Raon’s entire life had been lived as a dog on a leash.

Through a twist of fate, he obtained a new life.

Wrath remained in the wreckage of his destroyed leash.

Finally capable of standing on his own feet, he decided to live life by his own will.

He would slay anyone standing in his way…

Even if they were a god.

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.”