Building a Gaming Empire From Scratch - Chapter 1391

Lucas was the last human in the universe.A cosmic-scale war had consumed humanity in massive destruction. As collateral damage, there were no longer any habitable planets. Lucas Alhamera, a scientist, attempted to terraform a planet resembling Earth called Antroseda but continuously failed.Overwhelmed by despair and the crushing weight of loneliness, Lucas attempted to end his own life using a euthanasia capsule. However, just before his life could be taken, he was abruptly awakened by a notification.[As the last of the dominant species, you have been chosen as the new Overseer of this universe.][The cycle of life must continue to preserve balance.][Select planet as the birthplace of the new species (default)][Select another planet...]With the Overseer System he had obtained, Lucas began what he had failed to do for hundreds of years: reviving a dead planet and creating a new race to succeed humanity.

I, the protagonist, was just an ordinary NEET, but suddenly I was reincarnated as a tiny white snake in a fantasy world where legendary creatures and gods exist. Not only that, but I awakened in a cave as the offspring of a terrifying Medusa Serpent.Armed with only my human knowledge and my indomitable mental strength, I'm forced to use cunning tactics and rapidly evolving skills to survive against far stronger monsters and humans... So begins the survival story of a former shut-in with incredible willpower, living as one of the lowest-ranked beasts in a world of magic!ᆖMusic suddenly started playing in my head.I'd been waiting for this moment for so long.'Snakes! Assemble'....

He praised her, “Wifey, you are a genius!”

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.”