FFF-Class Trashero - Chapter 77: Two Heroes!

Chen Yuan transmigrated and became a Mountain Patrol Military Officer.The eight hundred miles of Langdang Mountain is his pasture.Unfortunately, the Great Qian Dynasty is in its final years, with its fate collapsing.Demonic disasters plague the land, bringing devastation to all living beings. The human world becomes a battleground, entering the mortal realm to face calamities.Monstrous beings and malevolent spirits take the stage, disrupting the martial world.Chen Yuan, armed with the Tiger Talisman for Mountain Moving, patrols on behalf of heaven, cutting down mountains and destroying temples.In the eight hundred miles of Langdang Mountain, demons and monsters shall not appear!

When I transmigrated, the protagonist was already dead.Now, I have to protect the world after the bad ending.So first things first, I became the enemy of the main heroine, who was on the brink of ending her life.“I finally understand what all those things you said really meant.”“I’m like this because of you, junior. Take responsibility.”“I can only sleep when I’m next to you.”…But for some reason, everyone is starting to act a little strange.

“Oracle” – A groundbreaking game emerges, silently transforming the world. When the game’s powers can manifest in reality, does it inspire excitement or instill fear?Ethan Carter, an ordinary office worker, falls victim to food poisoning after accidentally consuming expired groceries. However, upon logging into “Oracle,” he unexpectedly acquires a unique ability known as the “Venom Source.” Turning his misfortune into a blessing, Ethan embarks on an extraordinary journey to the pinnacle of power.

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.”