Holding On to My Man - Chapter 105

[True to its genre: a creepy, rule-based horror story, highly refined and quality assured, but prospective readers seeking a thrilling experience should think carefully before proceeding.]In order to secure a substantial university life experience grant, Lin Yi and his roommate registered to attend a suburban university.A seemingly ordinary but slightly unsettling set of student regulations;Strange signs in front of the buildings and seemingly normal building rules;Mysterious figures threading through the campus under abnormal weather conditions…As the experience unfolded, more and more bizarre people and events emerged. To survive and leave the campus, Lin Yi had to navigate on the edge of the rules…[Note: The logical chain of this book was deduced by the author before it was written, forming a closed loop. All rules serve as clues, and all the inconsistent, mysterious occurrences will receive scientific (or quasi-scientific) explanations. There are no supernatural events or related phenomena (just kidding), you are welcome to try reading it!]

In China’s modern martial arts society, Wu Xinghe was history’s youngest grandmaster of martial arts. He was invincible. Because of a strange incident, he was reincarnated as Qin Wushuang, a poor aristocratic boy in an entirely different world with its own set of rules. With his strong will and passion, he began his journey to pursue the highest peak of martial arts!

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.”

The constant mission is getting redemption.

Shuttle though various worlds to become a variety of scum men, do a little whitewashing and become a good man in the eyes of everyone.

Redeem those who are miserable, and let them live a happy life.

- Description from Novelupdates