I'm a God in an Online Game - Chapter 450

Life Mission – a game that has become reality.

System: You are the only human who meets the binding requirements of this system, please bind with me!

Title: Trillionaire Student: The Art of Corporate WarfareGenre: Cyberpunk Corporate Drama / Tech RomanceSetting: Near-future Shanghai (2045) where blockchain dynasties and AI oligarchs dominate global finance.Protagonist:· Ye Chen: A 22-year-old financial prodigy with military-grade neural implants. Orphaned and self-made, he accidentally inherits trillion-yuan assets tied to a cryogenically preserved heiress.· Su Ning: A “frozen elite” heiress resurrected from cryostasis. Her trauma-encrypted mind holds the keys to her family's blockchain empire.Core Plot:When Ye decrypts suicidal patterns in Su's neural data, their forced partnership to upgrade her emotional firewall exposes:1. Corporate Espionage: Rival tech giants weaponize celebrity scandals as NFT commodities.2. Family Conspiracy: Su's mother audits her memories like hostile mergers.3. Hidden Protocol: A blockchain ledger tracking physical intimacy as corporate liability.Key Westernized Elements:· Boardroom duels in holographic Hunger Games-style shareholder arenas· Romance through shared neural hacking of trauma encryption· Memetic warfare where viral tweets manipulate stock marketsThemes:· Capitalism 2.0 (emotions as crypto assets, SEC-regulated marriage contracts)· Cybernetic identity (childhood trauma rebuilt as AI firewalls)· East-West fusion (Tang poetry as quantum encryption keys)Cultural Bridges:· “Black Swan Fund” → “Quantum Contingency Fund”· Neural interface battles styled as The Matrix meets Game of Thrones· Food metaphors: Xiaolongbao dumplings as encrypted data carriers

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.”