MTL - Internet 2010 - Chapter 395 Food stalls

He became a teacher at the best magic academy in the empire.
….For being mistaken for someone else.

"Five years! Do you know how these five years have been for me?"

It had been five years since Gongzi Liang was transmigrated to a fantasy world and had received the Legendary Gold System.

However, the system kept nagging him to top up every time.

[$3 for God's Ring, $6 for first-time reward, $18 for enhancement, $28 for God-tier Beast...]

Gongzi Liang could only look at all the god-tier rewards and couldn't do anything because he didn't have money.

But, he did realize that he could level up his skills and strengthen his body by using copper coins. It could save him 99.99% of training.

It wasn't even hard for him to jump a few ranks in one day.

He would also gain coupons by completing the daily missions.

Just like that, Gongzi Liang became obsessed with completing his daily missions...

I’m a roleplayer. A gamer who creates characters according to their classes and happily acts as them.“Don’t… Touch me……”“Talk more and see if you can handle my wrath……”My current character was a Demon Knight who kept a Demon sealed in his right arm! One day while I was just acting as my character and enjoying the game as usual……“Log out.”[This command cannot be carried out.]“……? Log out.”[This command cannot be carried out.]“……???”And as if not being able to log out wasn’t enough…“You disgusting Demon! So you finally took over Sir Demon Knight’s body!”“My eyes cannot be deceived! Sir Demon Knight isn’t that kind!”Because of my damn companions I couldn’t even stop role playing!Can this role playing gamer faithful to their setting ever return to reality?

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.”