Mr. Tycoon Is Actually the Father of My Child! - Chapter 100: It Was a Misunderstanding from Beginning to End

DING!![You killed a Level 3 Mutant Zombie for the first time!]-----DING!![You have crossed the limit of humanity! Entering the mutation stage!]-----DING!![Congratulations, user! You are now a being beyond human beings!]-----Being a good person cost him his life. When death sent him back, he vowed to take revenge and finish the job.Behind the icy cold that grips the world and the red light that fills the sky day and night, he must defy the zombie apocalypse.A safe house, unlimited food and drink, every conceivable weapon and a system to help him... But he has only two things on his mind: Survival and revenge.

Reborn in the school from a previous life, Qin Fan decides to take a revenge on those bullying him for years. rising from an outcast of his family.“I'm not dead? I'm still alive? Haha! HAHAHA!”“Damn! This waste of space is getting way ahead of himself!”“Shit! What kind of dream was he having?”“This is the most attention that waste Qin Fan has ever gotten, haha!”

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.”

A millennium had passed, and everything had lost its meaning in his eyes. Many heroes emerged from generation to generation, but he stood the test of time. That was his life, waiting for someone to come along and defeat him, but no one did. Nobody dared. Nobody tried.How can he allow this to happen? With the aid of his magic, he rose from his throne and set out into another world in search of excitement and, perhaps, a worthwhile adventure.What would happen if this last boss decided to venture into the human world for fun?