Golden Dragon: Six Thousand Years of Empire - Chapter 225 - 160: Falling into Hell, Dead End? Rebirth?_2

He has won some games, lost some games, but it always entertained him and made him happy. However, one day when DOTA is linked to his life, Zhao Dingguo couldn’t be calm anymore. Because in his PC, there was an unexpected DOTA battle platform!

If he lost a game on the platform, he could be obliterated!

However, when Zhao Dingguo was careful and triumphant, he found that the magical rewards he received were actually brought to reality. Whether it’s skills, equipment or bloodline, as long as he has survived a brutal Death Match, everything is possible! After many difficult battles, Zhao Dingguo finally could walk calmly on the narrow path between victory and obliteration. His unchanging pursuit is the victory!

- Description from Novelupdates

I transmigrated as the hidden mastermind who betrays everyone at the story’s end.Since I wasn’t particularly interested in the destruction of the world, I was just leisurely waiting for the ending…“You are the only one who has ever seen my drawing of a boa constrictor properly.”“When I make plans to meet you at 4, my heart starts racing from 3… Is this what it means to be tamed?”For some reason, the heroines keep showing interest in me.

Pirate World, Before the Summit War.Sengoku: “In this war, the advantage is ours!”Vice Admiral Tsuru: “Can we really win?”Sengoku: “We will win.”As the Summit War begins, chaos erupts on the battlefield.Above Marineford.Suddenly, Will appears in the sky with his crew, overlooking the entire battlefield.Sengoku: “What exactly are you here for? Are you planning to help Whitebeard?”“Don’t misunderstand.”Will scans the battlefield, his gaze sweeping over the powerful figures present. A hint of excitement lingers in his tone.“I’m only here for one reason—to kill all of you. That’s it.”Sabaody Archipelago.Will watches the Celestial Dragons strutting arrogantly through the streets, their eyes filled with disdain for the world. He can’t help but frown.“These are no ordinary Celestial Dragons… This calls for a heavy punch!”...Without hesitation, he throws a devastating punch, obliterating a Celestial Dragon on the spot, crushing the surrounding Marines and CP agents with overwhelming force.The survivors turn to a trembling communications officer clutching a Den Den Mushi and scream in terror:“Hurry! Notify Marine Headquarters! Call for an Admiral!”

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.”