MTL - I Really Want To Go Against The Sky - Chapter 1798 Close the star field crack!

After being awakened by a raging headache and faint memories of his past life, Tsubakihara Yuuji found a strange smartphone he had never seen before.Opening it, he found a single question that would change his life and many others for the better, forever.[Do you wish to join the Multiverse Group Chat?][Yes] / [No]

The pessimistic and negative daughter of a concubine living in the ancient times thought – since life is so difficult, why should one invest serious effort in struggling to live?

The life of an ancient noble woman is often determined and controlled by her family. Moreover, one’s actions often implicate one’s entire family – thus, it is fairly common to see an unexpected calamity result in suffering borne by one’s whole family. Managing to live a good and successful life while retaining one’s dignity is simply too difficult to achieve.

Ah, living in the ancient times is simply too dangerous – we should all just sleep till we die.

Transmigrating to the Immortal World, Shen Ping has been cultivating as if he was walking on thin ice for more than twenty years, but he didn’t have cheats and had ordinary qualifications, so his cultivation progressed slowly.

When he finally decided to give up completely and become a loser to enjoy the world… Come on, chicks!

But…

Right after his night of satisfaction, he looked at his lovely wife who was curled up like a kitten in his arms.

[You have diligently cultivated with your wife for one night, gaining talisman-making experience +10]

[Current wife affinity 60]

[Bonus: 0]

[Talisman Master: First Order Lower Grade (1005/1000) Breakable]

He then realized that the way he opened the world of immortals was a bit wrong!

Dear readers! Fresh green style, maybe you will like it more in .

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.”