The Frugal Mage - Chapter 170: Fire

Anthony was an orphan and has been through the hard life filled with sufferingWorking twenty four hours a day with nothing to show for it.He prayed everyday for a better day but god seem to not hear himHe only read novels and other books in other to escape his harsh reality, because it was only in it he found solaceHe died one night on his way home from work after cursing god for the first time as a result of his frustration.He thought he would be heading to hell for cursing god.But a Unique being that even the universe couldn't fathom was intrigued with Anthony's soul.He decided to grant Anthony a wish after he had been through a hard lifeFollow Anthony as he vows to achieve whatever he couldn't in his past life.He shall stand above all with absolute powerAll tremble with just the mention of his name

The name Zhao Tie Zhu (lit. Zhao Steel Pillar) sounded pretty unrefined. But, when it came to his nickname, Phantom, it could be said that everyone in the assassin societies around the world know it. Nowadays, the world was too peaceful, and because of that, the assassination business wasn’t going well. Hearing real estate could earn you good money, Zhao Tie Zhu bought a huge villa, and became the legendary landlord.

He only rented his villa to single women. Zhao Tie Zhu posted renting advertisements on a well-known social website, and with that, women all came one after the other to his villa. The prettiest in schools, the prettiest in police teams, and all sorts of beauties came into his surroundings.

Proclaiming himself as hegemon of campuses, unifying the underworld. All so that the tenants would live in even more content.

I am a very responsible landlord — Said the Zhao Tie Zhu who was stepping on countless skeletons of the enemy.

- Description from Novelupdates

An absurd death at the peak of his career drags Dravin to a parallel world, where he is transmigrated into the body of a man with the same name and face as his own.He used to read webnovels about dragon reincarnation. So he never expects that in this new world, all he has to do is just be himself.Sounds like a dream, right? A second chance at life just for being yourself.But no, not quite. He has to cook delicious meals and serve them to humans possessed by demons.On top of that, Dravin must raise the Pleasure Index of a new world isolated from entertainment so they can be immune to demon attacks.Cooking is his passion, being a chef influencer is his job.Now, hunting demons would be his nightmare come true, or... could it be a wonderful dream, too?***[Chef, please unlock the secret recipe for a broken heart from a cheating partner]“Huh, it seems like curry noodles? Wait... what is this serenity capsule ingredient?”[That's from the tears of Asmodeus, the demon of lust and anger.]“What? How to get that?”[By not having lustful thoughts for 33 days.]“...”

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.”