MTL - Demon King/The Parting of the Orchid and Cang - Chapter 88 [Book Edition Fanwai II] Abandoned Treasures' Sword of Wind

One day, I – a high schooler – found a paperback in the hospital. The “Disease Coexistence Journal” was its title. It was a diary that my classmate, Sakura Yamauchi, had written in secret. Inside, it was written that due to her pancreatic disease, her days were numbered. And thus, I coincidentally went from Just-a-Classmate to a Secret-Knowing-Classmate. It was as if I were being drawn to her, who was my polar opposite. However, the world presented the girl that was already suffering from an illness with an equally cruel reality…

The best-selling, award-winning debut work by Yoru Sumino:

“Bestsellers 2016 (Overall) by NIPPAN” – 4th Place

“Bestsellers 2016 (Paperback Fiction) by NIPPAN” – 1st Place

“Bestsellers 2016 (Overall) by TOHAN” – 5th Place

“Bestsellers 2016 (Literary Books) by TOHAN” – 1st Place

“Bookstore Grand Prix 2016” – 2nd Place

“DA VINCI BOOK OF THE YEAR 2015” – 2nd Place

“Bestsellers 2015 (Literary Books) by TOHAN” – 6th Place

As of May 2017, this book has sold over 1.2 million copies.

At some point in the 21st century, the Christian God stopped listening to the prayers of humanity. Monsters with colossal strength and endurance began to emerge and humanity entered its darkest period.

Accompanied by all kinds of crisis and despair, was the arrival of mankind’s first significant superhero.

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.”