I Can Recognize Everything, But the Information is Wrong - Chapter 555 - 517: Speculation

Fuck me.I was just trying to pull my favorite character from a gacha game — Trafalgar du Morgain. The legendary swordsman. The cursed heir. The tragic side story no one cared to fix.Discarded by his clan. Humiliated by his siblings. Dead by suicide before the main plot even began.Guess who woke up in his body?Yeah. Me.Now I’m stuck in a game world that had zero lore, zero guidance, and zero chance of survival — except for the broken-ass Talent I somehow unlocked.I’ll kill, steal, lie, betray—whatever it takes.If survival means blood on my hands, then so be it.I didn’t choose this world, but I’m not going to let it chew me up and spit me out.I’ll climb over corpses if I have to. I’ll become the villain, the monster, the nightmare they never saw coming.Because in this world, there’s only one rule that matters: survive or die.And I’m not dying again.~~~More tags: no Yuri, no NTR, transmigration, rarebloodline, no dense mc, dragons, dragon girl, dog girl, vampire, succubus, mana cultivation, cursed heir, academy setting, secret identity, hidden talent, demons, death and rebirth, political intrigue, ancient bloodline, dark fantasy, family conflict.

I don’t want to die. I want to be free. To that end, I shall….reconcile myself to the fate of becoming a “monster”.

A strange disease that racks one’s entire body with intense never-ending pain, until the person slowly withers away and eventually dies. After a few years of braving through the pain, the boy is in no luxury to even feel despair. With nary a soul to tend to him, he breathes his last.

The next time he opened his eyes, the boy had become an “Undead” of the lowest rank through the power of an evil Necromancer.

The boy rejoices at having his earnest desire fulfilled, which is a body that will never feel pain. However, he realizes that he is still under someone’s control and how it was no different from when he was cooped up in the hospital ward.

But the world would not leave alone the boy who only wished for peace.

The Necromancer who revives the boy from the dead, names him “End” and attempts to gain control over him.

The Undead Knights, lay their lives on the line to persistently chase after and annihilate the beings of the darkness.

With countless monsters under their command, the Demon Lords rule over their own lands while they all contend for ultimate supremacy.

The motivation being survival and freedom. The requirements being caution and power.

This is the tale of the cowardly King of the Undead. In his pursuit for freedom, he heads into battle and turns tail at times. He knows when to fear his opponents and when to waver in his decisions.

Cole Raden was a previous veteran who becomes entangled in a series of Conspiracies by supernatural Factions and entities. Forced to retaliate, Cole must use his experience and instincts to survive by any means possible, till he ties all threads and frees himself from the chain of bondage.Will he make it out with In tact? or will he loose something greater than his life in the process? only time can tell and his decisions along the way may shape final resulthttps://discord.gg/qAbZX9k5A

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.”