MTL - Mythical Tyrant - Chapter 754 Shocked again and again

As a Beta, Ning An’s goal in life was to work hard, make money and get rich. However, his own dear father changed his aspiration and made him become a military academy student. Initially, he wanted to spend his days lazing about. What? The first place in the year gets a generous scholarship? Then staying up to study and train my body is nothing at all! The first place scholarship is definitely mine!

The A in the opposite dorm: So you’re actually an O.

Ning An: Ah?

The A in the opposite dorm: I know. You’re risking it all to prove that an O is not inferior to an A.

Ning An: You know my ass. Laozi is a B.

The A in the opposite dorm: You need to correctly recognise your own gender ah.

Ning An: …. Teacher. Report. I’m afraid this person is stupid.

note: Pretending to be a B’ is 装B (Zhuang B). 装B also means to boast or show off

- Description from Novelupdates

This novel is also known as [I was caught and brought back after using and tossing aside the Great Demon King of e-sports…]

Wei Xiao––the former rookie king of the league, now an accompanying player and tr*sh talk king, had a stupefied look on his face!

Someone bought 10,000 games with him!

200 yuan a game, for a neat and tidy total of two million yuan!

Wei Xiao: “Boss, you didn’t miscount the zeroes, right?”

“No.”

“You want me to accompany you to play 10,000 games?”

“Mm.”

Wei Xiao was amazed. But just when he thought he’d encountered a generous fool and was having a good time deceiving and playing with them, he discovered the other party’s identity.

This person actually turned out to be his previous captain, the one whose hands were tired from accepting too many championship trophies, the one who made everyone feel fear when they heard his name, the Great Demon King of the league, Lu Feng!

Wei Xiao: “I’m sorry for disturbing you, goodbye!”

Lu Feng picked up the little bastard who wanted to run, “Have you played around enough? Come back for training if you’ve played enough!”

Later on, Wei Xiao became famous in a single game. The host interviewed him, “How would you evaluate God Lu?”

Wei Xiao: “God Lu? Great technique, strong physical strength, and the most heaven-defying thing is his endurance!”

Host: “???”

How come the answer seemed to be a little strange?!

The emaciated old man with an alien-like appearance grinned maliciously, while the young girl cried and howled.“Worm, worm, worm, worm, worm, worm...”Countless worms surged towards the girl like a tide, seemingly intent on devouring her completely.The girl instinctively closed her eyes and let out a desperate wail.“Someone... save me!”A breathtaking beam of light cut through the dimness, dispelling the girl's fear and the swarm of worms that filled her vision. Accompanied by a voice that was young but carried a hint of sunshine.“It's okay, I'm here. Big brother is here to protect you.”The boy with purple hair and purple eyes held a scythe in his hand, blocking in front of the girl, and issued a declaration of death to the old man.“You deserve to die, Zouken Matou. No, Makiri Zolgen!”

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.”