Another World’s Versatile Crafting Master - Chapter 73 - Level Twelve

Zhao Yesui runs a private custom shop, and his job is to customize death for others.

On a certain day of a certain year, when he customized an exclusive death for a customer as always, he found himself involved in a game of death with no end in sight.

What surprised Zhao Yeshi even more was that, unlike other players, he seemed to be able to extract identities in the game?

However, as he extracted more and more identities, trouble also followed.

The NPCs in the game… chased after him in reality.

Not only that, but many of his identities are also known to everyone by word of mouth.

Such as Legendary Investigator, Unthinking Juggernaut, Archon of Fantasy Kingdom, Lord of Steam, Weaver of Fate, Loving Father, Lord of Death and Soul, etc.

And those women with prestigious titles also followed, the queen of the fantasy country, the ruling angel who called herself a bad woman, the immortal of Shenzhou who inherited the precious blood…

In this regard, Zhao Yejia could only deny it righteously, and packed up and ran away to escape the end of his own blood.

- Description from novelbuddy

There were three words in the Sun star empire to describe Scarlet Su, Useless, trash and stupid. But one day, Scarlet Su's star account went from having the user name 'The mecha king's bride' to 'The mecha king sucks.'

Suddenly everyone wondered, what new attention seeking game was she playing?

Dying in a zombie infested earth, a young woman dives into a door way which should lead to a wonderful new world but instead, she awakens on an interstellar world in the body of Scarlet Su, the unwanted wife of the empire's favorite general and mecha king.

She becomes an instant mother to the general's son and the part owner of an undeveloped garbage planet.

Luckily, she has transmigrated with her storage space, millions of supplies and a willingness to work hard.

Unfortunately, she is tricked into becoming a grim reaper in this interstellar world. Every week she must deliver souls to the underworld or risk losing her newly acquired mental strength and return to the being the old Weak, useless Scarlet. She went from being Scarlet the useless to Scarlet the amazing and her husband suddenly came calling desperate for her to accept his love.

She said, “Talk to your son first, he is the one seeking a father.”

But his son said, “You want to be my daddy, join the line of suitors over there and fill in your information.”

Excerpt:

“So the prodigal husband returns after all this time and here I thought you were dead.” she said sarcastically.

“Watch your tongue Scarlet, I am still your husband.”

Scarlet laughed and crossed her arms, “So you are aware that you are a husband, how should I react now that you have chosen to embrace the title you so easily wanted to discard a few months ago. Should I clap my hands and then take my clothes off and beg you to ravish me?” she rolled her eyes at him and scoffed.

She watched her husband slowly walk toward her with a focused furious look in his eyes and she wondered if she had pushed him too far.

“You dared to send me divorce papers, Scarlet, have you lost your damn mind?”

'No,' she thought, 'On the contrary, you have lost yours.'

……………………………………………………………

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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.”

A question I often ask myself, is the human desire for self-destruction never going away?

Travel through the endless apocalypse world, and find the answer behind every kind of demise!

- Description from novelbuddy