Hot Search Alert! The Princess Goes Viral Worldwide - Chapter 98

“Boss…I’m really sleepy….” My eyelids were starting to feel heavy. After all, it was past 3am. Most normal people would be asleep by now.

Welcome Zhang Yu to the art life section of Yangtai. I am the host army!
     The literary world calls your work the peak of God.
     The comic world calls your work insurmountable.
     The music industry calls your work the limit of art.
     The film industry calls your work a box office myth.
     Of course, these are not what I want to ask.
     I want to ask…
     What is it for the sports world?

- Description from uukanshu

Su Mo, a late bloomer, was introverted and bad at socializing with strangers.He thought his life would stay pretty ordinary, but everything changed when he started playing the popular game Star Ring. He unexpectedly rediscovered the joys of life and set off on a journey to claim the throne.

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.”