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... zy figure. 𝙛𝙧𝙚𝒆𝘸𝚎𝙗𝒏oν𝙚𝘭.𝐜𝒐m

It seemed to be a cultivator who was sitting cross-legged on a futon, and the aura around him was decaying. However, countless red silk threads pierced through the void and wrapped around his body like a spider web.

&Quot; senior Brother Han sigu?! &Quot; Tang Nanzhai looked at him warily. Suddenly, he heard Lin Long’s exclamation.

“Han sigu?” Everyone was stunned and looked at Lin Long together.

&Quot; of course! ...

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What comes to your mind when you hear the word 'Villain'? Evil, cruel, cunning? So true.

But what if the main character in this novel is reincarnated as a villain? Can he kill the protagonist who has endless plot armor?

Zhou Yuan had to accept the fact that he had reincarnated into the world of the cultivation novels he had read in his previous life.

He realized that his identity was extraordinary.

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Zhou Yuan was excited, but that all changed when he realized that his role was that of the villain.

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Tens of billions of people around the world come to the heavens to kill the world at the same time.

Hundreds of countries including Lighthouse Country, Dragon Country, Sakurajima Country compete!

Qin Feng awakened his supreme talent at the beginning!

SSS-level talent – endless extraction!

He can extract everything! Including extracting gods and demons!

【Successful extraction! You get space skills! 】

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[Successful extraction! You get SS-level talent! 】

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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.”