MTL - Super Battleship Reborn - Chapter 6 Set off for the sun!

It is well known that while most Evil Skills can be mastered quickly, they are accompanied by immense side effects. A slight misstep and you could drive yourself insane or get yourself killed.But what if the side effects could be transferred to your enemies? How exhilarating would it be to cultivate Evil Skills then?In any case, Zou Feng, who transmigrated here, is already having the time of his life.The most evil, most venomous, and most morally corrupt Cultivation Skills? Bring them all on.This Poison Skill will make your entire body fester and become unrecognizable? Cultivate it!Cultivating this Skill will cause you to lose your sanity and become worse than a beast? Cultivate it!A Cultivation Skill that ensures you won't live for more than a year upon mastery? Cultivate it!

“Could you become my daughter?”

On just another normal school day, while 16-year-old Drake Wilson drives his two best friends, Mike and Chad, to school, an unexpected twist of fate occurs in the form of a cat. When a cat runs across the road, Drake narrowly misses it, and his car ends up driving into a nearby field. With a sudden storm, a flash of light explodes, creating a dimensional portal in front of them. There is nothing they could do to stop the car from entering the portal. On the other side, they find themselves in another dimension filled with magic and power. To Drake, the place looks familiar because it is the starting point of his new game called “Dimension Master.”

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.”