Custom Made Demon King - Chapter 688 - : At the Height of Prosperity, Decline

The chronicle of a swotter reincarnated as a muscle brain, aspiring to be a magician!Synopsis——I, who had always longed for the world of sword and magic, found myself reincarnated into another world. But wait, why the hell was the new world just as academically focused as the last.……Whatever, what matter was I was in the world of magic.Reincarnated I was, I strived to live like the wind, free and whimsical while working hard for the elite course but a shocking twist was awaiting for me—What, I don’t have a talent for magic? I only have the talent for Body-Strengthening magic (musclebrain)?No, Impossible, absurd! I am obviously from the sage clique!No matter what, I will not be bound to the competitive society in this life! With unwavering determination, I set out on a quest to discover how I could become a mage at the prestigious academy in the royal capital. But little did I know, my talent in Body-Strengthening magic was a double-edged sword, leading to misunderstandings and an ever-escalating series of mishaps……However my will is unshaken! I will absolutely live the way I want in this life!

On the battlefield, the Avengers fell into a bitter battle, and when Thanos was about to win, suddenly, there was a loud noise in the sky, and only a huge battleship that covered the sky appeared above everyone’s heads, and opened the door from the battleship. A man stepped out of the hatch.

“who are you!”

Thanos felt uneasy and shouted loudly.

“Who am I, you ask?”

The man looked down on the world.

“Listen well, I am the doctor of Rhodes Island, the admiral of the tutelary mansion, the master of Chaldea, the commander of Griffin, the onmyoji of Heianjing, the knight of Princess Link, the dress-up master of the Miracle Continent, Rainbow Squad operator, Battle Commander, Duelist of Dueling City, Demon Hunter who can cry, Demon Hunter who collects Gwent cards, Ashes of No Fire, Master Ashes of Fireproof Lady, Destroyer of Outer Gods. Sever Undead The man of the sky. Grabber of Skyrim, god of war who slaughtered the gods of Olympus and Asgard. Assassin who wants nothing but love, little policeman of Raccoon City, ruler and protector of the border. King of Erden, High Lord of Azeroth, Warrior of Arad, Summoner of Valoran, Defender of Crossfire, Mercenary of Kuhan…”

- Description from novelbuddy

Jacob Steve, an Old Man, died at 116 after living a whole life.

But Jacob always had a dark side, which he always suppressed and hid from others.
However, in the later years of his life, when death was inevitable, he understood there wasn't any point in having wealth, knowledge, or desires if you couldn't have a life to enjoy them.

He became obsessed with fabled immortality and devoted his reaming life to extending his fleeting lifespan, but just like any other failed.

However, he mysteriously got another chance at life and found a way that led to fabled immortality.
But he was also forewarned that the way led to it was filled with blood and darkness!

In the end, Jacob chose it anyway with no way of going back, and it was also the start of his suffering and his icky, brutal journey toward the 'Immortality' he wanted so badly!

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.”