Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse - Chapter 4681: THE Fallout! III

Everyone has friends in their lives, right?They can be anyone—good friends, bad friends, or even... friends with benefits.Ahem!Anyway, the point is, everyone has friends. And so did I.I was friends with author of web novel.Yeah, was.A small argument over how the main character should act in novel of [World’s Greatest Hero] led to a fight with my friend, the author.Still frustrated, I stormed out of his house... and that’s when Truck-kun hit me.But that wasn’t the worst part.The worst part? I woke up in a different body—the body of a side character in my friend’s novel.A character who is supposed to die in the prologue.[Your body is dying!][You don’t have much time left.][The creator of this world is mocking you.]F#ck you, Author.F#ck this novel.I will survive, and when I do—I'll beat you to a pulp!

Introduction 1: The villagers, when mentioning Zhuang Qingning who had no parents, then fell ill and chose to live on her own rather than being fostered by her uncle's family, they sighed and shook their heads, thinking she was paving her own way to death.But who would have thought, she started a workshop, bought a shop, built a house, lived comfortably raising dogs and cats, and everyone who got close to her flourished financially?The villagers: Is it too late to get in good graces with the God of Wealth now? Awaiting your response, it's quite urgent......----Introduction 2: Everyone in the capital city sighed over the good fortune of the Prince Qi, who was unparalleled in his beauty, for he followed the wishes of the late queen and married an ordinary rural girl, thereby giving up an ideal marriage.But who would have thought, the prince was so considerate of his wife, spent fortune to bring a smile to her face, defied orders just to protect her, totally behaving like a man deeply in love......All the people: Excuse me, is it too late to start shipping this couple now?----This story is about a rural woman growing step by step, expressing warmth, lightness, encountering thorny paths and joyful achievements alike, where lovers eventually marry, and there is retribution for good and evil.

[Congratulations! The system will guide you to find a handsome and kind husband in the apocalypse!]After being killed by the demon king, the demon queen had a second chance to live in the body of a woman in the apocalyptic world, Medeia Vega.Their planet has apparently been hit by cosmic radiation, causing living things to mutate and develop unique abilities.People with weak mental states couldn't keep their humanity and turned into monsters, while the survivors had to fight those monsters endlessly to stay alive.Her main mission in that world was to find a kind-hearted husband, but it just so happened that Medeia also built a safe haven for people.Would she be able to find the man of her dreams in the apocalypse?————[Before dating a kind hearted man, you should also have a pure heart!]“Fuck.”[Foul language detected! Penalty minus 20 points!]“Damn you—”[Foul language detected! Penalty minus 30 points!]“You shitty system, how dare you keep reducing my point?! I hope you rot in hell, you bastard!”[Foul language detected! Bad curse detected! Penalty minus 100 points!!!]

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.”