System's Super Sect - Chapter 72、Impending Storm【Seeking Recommendation Tickets】

Enemy of the world, cursed by all, Kim Sungchul goes on a quest to prevent the ‘prophecy of the end’ from coming to pass.

But no matter how much he raised his strength, there were still some things he could not achieve with physical strength alone.

Resolving to obtain the power of magic, he goes into hiding to learn magic from his most hated of enemies, The Mages.

These days, could one really time-travel just by dreaming? And to become a silly princess at that. Well, marrying a domineering man wasn't too bad. His taking a concubine wasn't the end of the world either. But why was she forbidden from liking anything except him? That was just too domineering! She had to escape! Ah, but upon escaping, she realized he was a half-demon who didn't understand love... and, moreover, a half-demon who had a three-lives connection with her...

Ercella lived a glorious life everyone envied, but died of an illness at a young age.

Before her death, she regretted not having become a proper mother to her son.

But somehow, she went back three years ago.

Ercella is living her second life.

I promise to be a loving mother this time.

However, is it too late?

“Now that you’re doing this, you’re just making me feel uncomfortable.”

The son only pushes her away and she realises that her relationship with the husband, who she thought was fine before her regression, wasn’t actually…

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.”