MTL - The Target Always Thinks That I Like Him! - Chapter 135 逆师师尊12

As the youngest son of a top chaebol in the Blue Star entertainment circle, Lin Zhibai thought that his life was just to eat and wait to die.

Until that summer.

The system fell from the sky, and he awakened the memory of his previous life.

“So I’m from Earth?”

- Description from novelbuddy

Lugis is an adventurer who accompanies the Hero’s team party. However, every day he has to fulfill tasks that are not pleasant at all. In addition, he is oppressed by the other members of the group. The only reason he remains on this journey is because of his childhood friend, Ariane. But she is fascinated with the team leader known as Hero. One day a shadow figure appears and tell Lugis, “Let me give you a chance. A chance to redraw your life.” And so, Lugis is given the opportunity to be sent to the past to restart his life.

With peerless medical skills in one hand and unmatched Kung Fu in the other, bearing the memory of the Medical Divine, I dominate the city as the god it kneels to. I am here, so I decide your fate between life and death! I am here, so I am the heaven that dictates your destiny!

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.”