Eternal Swordmaster - Chapter 2 - Secret Technique

This novel is also known as Transcendental Mechanic

What do you do when you wake up and find yourself inside the very game that you love?

What do you do when you realize you that you have not only become an NPC – you have even been thrown back in time to before the game even launched!

What will happen when our protagonist’s two realities coincide?

Han Xiao was a professional power leveler before his transmigration. Using his past life’s knowledge, Han Xiao sweeps through the universe as he prepares for the arrival of the players. This is definitely not your typical transmigration novel.

- Description from novelupdates

Condition 1: Collect 1 Yellow Turban Soldier’s Rune (Completed)

Condition 2: Defeat 100 Runic Monsters Solo (Completed)

Condition 3: Kill Wild Boars in One Strike 5000 times (Completed)

Condition 4: Consume 10 Runic Pills (Completed)

Your Rune Can Now Be Upgraded.

Worlds overlapped, and Alien Species descended.Strange entities emerged one after another, as the shadow of evil spread wildly.The calm of life was shattered, and Zhang Xiaoman, inside a fish's stomach, accidentally consumed a system named “World-saving Plan”.From then on, he became the only person among all humans with Extraordinary Power.…Inventing an ancient oath, he established a unique methodology, Cultivated Dark Energy, founded an organization, took Control of the Transcendent, and resisted invasions.Well, this is actually the story of how a Big Con Man bluffed his way into saving the entire world.PS: Contains elements of the behind-the-scenes, Cthulhu mythos.

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.”