MTL - You’re Beautiful When You Smile - Chapter 174

The journey to the martial peak is a lonely, solitary and long one. In the face of adversity, you must survive and remain unyielding. Only then can you break through and continue on your journey to become the strongest. Sky Tower tests its disciples in the harshest ways to prepare them for this journey. One day the lowly sweeper Kai Yang managed to obtain a black book, setting him on the road to the peak of the martials world.

Following the death of the emperor, the Astanian Empire plunged into chaos. His two sons both aiming for the throne caused a civil war that divided the empire.In the midst of this conflict, Alaric was forced into conscription. He later joined the crown prince’s army as a company commander.He led his 100-man army into battle, fiercely fighting with the hope of a better future. Unfortunately, he was just too weak to cause a ripple on the battlefield.A single arrow to the head shattered his hopes and he died without even a proper burial.Just when he thought that everything was over, he found himself back to his younger self with his memories intact.Armed with his knowledge of the future and a system that awakened his dormant powers, Alaric began his journey to overcome his fated demise.

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.”