The Arcane God - Chapter 6: Bad Omen

Transmigrating into a novel one morning, Wen Jing arrived at the side of the one he worshiped and admired the most, becoming a loyal hound that was willing to go through fire and water for his senior brother.

Even the most arrogant cultivator said: “There is no one in this world who can enter my eyes, but only Jun YanZhi is truly noble.”

Wen Jing grew up alongside his senior brother, idolizing his senior brother beyond all means.

Unfortunately, he was ignorant, and as for this novel, he had only read half of it.

Midway through the storyline, he finally realized that things didn’t seem to be the way he thought they were.

Wen Jing: “Last night, Senior brother infiltrated Master’s abode. Master, please take heed.”

His master: “Nonsense! Your master was inside the abode all night last night, and did not see anyone else.”

Wen Jing: “Last night, Senior brother left on his own without permission to meet someone. Martial Uncle, please thoroughly investigate.”

His martial uncle: “Nonsense! Last night your senior brother and I were drinking and chatting merrily, all the way until morning.”

Wen Jing: “Last night, Senior brother was improper towards me……”

His senior sister: “Nonsense! How can your senior brother possibly do that kind of thing? Don’t tell me you’ve long held those kind of intentions towards him, and unable to obtain what you wanted, you’re now framing him?”

Many years later.

Wen Jing: “There’s this evil brute, specializing in using his top-notch, exquisite looks and elegant disposition to fool people, and everyone is in the midst of danger while not even aware of it themselves.”

Jun YanZhi: “If it wasn’t for you, that evil brute would most likely still be struggling in pain and suffering.”

- Description from Novelupdates

I closed my eyes and let out a long, shuddering breath. The needle slipped through my numb fingers and clattered onto the rough pavement. Nothingness swirled around me, bringing the first peace I'd felt in my short, miserable life. No one would miss me, and if any did...? Well, there was always someone else to beat or rape. They'd move on quickly.But then...gods? Since when did nothingness have so many gods?Chosen by the goddess of Fate, I'm thrust into a world of magic and wonder alongside nine other heroes. A world where the gods reign supreme, and evil is vanquished before it can spread its blight.Can such a place truly exist? Could life really be worth living?I've heard that the brightest lights cast the longest shadows, but my life has been nothing but darkness. Perhaps this new world will be the chance I need to find the light, to see the other side.

As soon as Rong Yan entered the book, it was a bloodbath.Faced with a deathly hellish start.She ended up with Liu family's slacker gang.And the people coming to catch the cheaters were just a few minutes away.One step forward, an abyss; one step back, into the dragon's den.Rong Yan: Wow, this is thrilling!***Fortunately, she has a space with trillions of resources, otherwise, this house would be empty.She genuinely felt like she could die on the spot.But what's with the control group?Her man is a cannon-fodder unlucky chap?Her brother-in-law and sister-in-law's fate is extremely tragic?Is she that doomed original match where the more miserable she is, the better off the female protagonist?Well, go to hell!Kicking those bloodsucking relatives, punching those scoundrels...Qin Ye stops her: ”Wife, let me handle this.“Rong Yan: ...Can I still get a divorce?Qin Ye's cold laugh: ”Only widowhood, don't think about divorce.“

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.”