Empress of the Entertainment World - Chapter 386 Worried Andy

Ji Qingzhou was anthropophobic and foolish. She had no redeeming qualities, except for her face.

Once she transmigrated, she was bound to a Guide System to save the world. She was tasked with capturing Shen Rongyu, the sinister, beautiful, mighty, gloomy villain and Great Shixiong of Xuanyun Sect, and to prevent him from destroying the immortal cultivation world in the future.

Can Ji Qingzhou, who had been single for 20 years, learn how to capture a villain?

Of course not.

She started off terribly, and muddled through the tasks that the system issued.

- Description from Novelupdates

Transmigrated to become a disciple of the demon sect, relying on the technique modifier to become a giant of the demon path.

[Detected the technique “Blood Nerve”, relying on devouring blood to cultivate]

[Side effect: easily affected by the spirit contained in the blood, becoming bloodthirsty, murderous, insane, and even brain dead]

[Please wait, system modification is in progress…]

[Ding! Modification completed and side effects canceled]

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.”

In the post-apocalyptic age, men were damned.