Demon Lord Management Sim Game - Chapter 118 118 – Not In The Mood

Qin Nuo transmigrated into the Great Zhou dynasty, becoming the dim-witted Ninth Prince. As if it’s not enough to be a female transmigrating into a male, (s)he thought that (s)he could just enjoy a life of drinking, eating, and being merry–but no. He ended up being pushed to do something way beyond his abilities and entered the fight for the throne. Internally there is strife among brothers, and a powerful official with great authority; externally there are foreign powers looking to invade, and the discontent of the people that is boiling over. How is he supposed to pave a path through this mess both domestically and abroad? It’s hard to be emperor, and even harder to be a good emperor! This is a story about an emperor farming. While others are farming a field, he’s farming a whole imperial court.

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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.”

“Legend had it that in the deepest part of the oldest galaxy, there was a door as red as blood and fire.

Legends and myths, darkness and light, countless stories passed through this old door.

The Door of Constellation that overlooked everything would warn the sky and earth, sending darkness back to where it belonged.”

In the vast forests, towering mountains, and the wide seas, mythical creatures spread across the wide world. Some are large and terrifying, while others are small and gentle; half of them enjoy harming humans, while others wish to help them.No one knows exactly when they appeared. Some say they existed before the human race emerged, while others claim they appeared alongside the first humans in this world.Their forms and abilities vary, and different races deal with them differently. Some despise them and consider them monsters, while others revere them. Yet everyone agrees on one thing: it is best not to attempt to meddle with them.Everyone, that is, except for one person.