My new Journey through the realms - Chapter 881 - 879 A healer in need

The iron widow, the spider widow, male hunter, the witch of Neuwanstein castle, the embarrassment of noble ladies…….

The resurrection of Reiki, Global Awakening.

Countless people have awakened their abilities because of the nourishment of Reiki.

The funny thing is that most people think they are the only ones who have awakened their powers.

In this situation, Bai Xuan, who had awakened his ability, suddenly found himself joining the chat group connecting the heavens and the world.

When seeing other passers-by who have awakened their abilities, they are either excited, secretive, refreshed, or confident in their eyes.

Bai Xuan: Is there a possibility, just a possibility, that I am the protagonist?

- Description from Novelupdates

Mutations occurred around the whole world and soon, a demonic apocalypse befell.

In order to defend against demonic beings, humans swiftly entered a globalized digital age. Everyone would be able to choose between a fighting or a supporting job through awakening once they reached the age of 18. These people would get stronger by slaying demonic beings.

Lu Yan had awakened to the weakest job, a Necromancer. However, he had also received a Job Supporting System and was able to reawaken into a hidden job, Lord of the Death.

“Necromancers are so weak that they die in one hit!”

“Man, that dude’s luck is just the worst. He did get a fighting job, but it’s the weakest. What can he do? Summon a few skeletons?”

“Also, aren’t there only like a handful of Necromancers out there? There aren’t a lot of experience or resources for them to inherit. Their future seems bleak.”

“Forget Necromancers! I got the Holy Knight job! Your all-around king is here!”

Not long after that, Lu Yan appeared in a full set of Death Nether Armor while wielding the Death Soul Scythe and leading a 100 thousand-strong death army. With a single swing of his scythe, he split the mythical rank demonic beast in half.

“Necromancers are weak? What does that have to do with me, the Lord of the Death?”

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.”