Stunning Edge - Chapter 245 - Abnormal Camil

In the midst of a ruined forest, due to the result of the clash between peak powerhouses, a body of a man lay. He was known as the 'Evilest Villain', the worst man ever born in humanity.His body was full of wounds with a spear piercing his heart. However, even in his final moments, he was calm and collected, with his usual cold face.

The only thing on his mind was, “Forgive me, I couldn't keep my promise to you.”

He closed his eyes, ready to begin his eternal slumber in the darkness.

Suddenly, a blue light appeared, with ancient text that read, 'Do you want to turn back time, my child?'

He laughed and said yes.

| Fate Devourer System |

[Initializing......................24%]

[Authority: Deus Time Control (Rank ?!?) used]

[The Goddess of Time wishes you the best].

Xiang Shaoyun is the young master of an influential and powerful sect and is blessed with an extreme latent talent in martial cultivation. From talent comes confidence, and from confidence comes a declaration to give all the so-called geniuses a head start of ten years before catching up to them.

A person who lived the life to the maximum even being a person with paralysis, always played his favorite sport basketball, even if alone, follow the story of Jake Smith to be happy with a second chance.

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.”