Quick Transmigration: Drama Queen's Daily Life - Chapter 116 - 112.3: The Unemotional Emperor_3

He returned from the hopeless future!

Dual cultivation and apocalypse—words that mix like oil and water. There's nothing charming about seducing feral women on the road.

However, when Kaze Lexicon, the emperor of the Immortal Plane, got transmigrated into the past, he refused to give up his debaucherous ways—apocalypse or otherwise.

Armed with the knowledge of the future and an encyclopedia of overpowered cultivation techniques, he immediately set forth to obtain resources and build a lavish settlement to live a comfortable life dual cultivating in the apocalypse.

However, while it's obscenely protected and powerful, he finds himself in another predicament. The cultivators farming humans for their war, and the desperate humans, become enemies far more dangerous than the zombies and monsters that afflict humanity.

Join Kaze as he rebuilds his reputation from a bullied weeb, obtains wealth, builds power, starts a faction, makes lemonade, trains his people, protects his past lovers, conquers settlements, and fights humans, monsters, and cultivators, all for the sake of two obscene goals: enjoying life and building an army of engineers to bring modern technology to the higher planes.

I shall see the end of this story.It was the dream of every reader to travel to the world of their favourite novel even if it was a fleeting thought.But that was impossible. A work of fiction will simply remain a story. But it was different for our MC.He suddenly found himself in the world of his favourite webnovel. The genre of his life completely changed.The new world was a world filled with destruction and death was lingering at every corner.He was the last reader and he must survive in this forsaken world.

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.”