My Bio-Nanotech System - Chapter 12: Saved?

Luo Ling, an expert in the art of disguise, was bound to a System and was eager to begin his task.

As a result, before even successfully completing a mission, he got married!

At a 36 degree angle, Luo Ling sorrowfully looked up into space: “Tong’er, tell me, do I still have a chance to free myself?”

System: “… Your man is behind you.”

Luo Ling: “!!!”

The person who arrived, gathered Luo Ling in his arms, hugging him from behind as he said in a bewitchingly dangerous tone: “Based on your thoughts, it seems that I have not given you enough love. So let’s proceed in exploring ways to continue a new life.”

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Different Hollywood, different life, there are only wonderful works, telling a new legend.

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The labyrinth that swallowed humanity. Four choices were given to them.

Easy Mode, where anyone can survive. Normal Mode, where only those who fight survive. Hard Mode, where only 1% can survive. And the Solo Mode, where only one person survived.

The strongest returnee of humanity, Kang Taesan, was an Easy Mode player.

He heard countless times,

“What if you had chosen the Hard Mode, or even the Normal Mode?”

Regretting his cowardly choice while dying amidst destruction, he gets another chance to choose.

“This time, I won’t make the wrong choice.”

The strongest Easy Mode player has returned.

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.”