In Konoha, This Naruto Has Decided To Take It Easy - Chapter 125 Auxiliary Member of Team 8

The world’s largest VRMMO, Conviction, was almost like a second world for humanity. It had integrated itself into the real world’s economy, with both corporations and individuals seeking their fortunes through the game.

In this game, Nie Yan prided himself in his Level 180 Thief. He could barely be considered among the top experts in the game. Though, that was the only thing he could take pride in. He was penniless and unable to advance in life; a situation he was forced into by the enemy of his father. If it weren’t for the little money he made by selling off items in Conviction, he would’ve barely been able to eat. In the end, he chose to settle his matters once and for all. He assassinated his father’s enemy. He lay dying shortly after being shot in the pursuit.

However, that wasn’t the end of his story. Instead, he awoke moments later to find that he had reincarnated into his past self. Armed with his experience and knowledge of future events, he sets out to live his life anew.

He Miao transmigrated into a book, becoming the ugly, foolish female supporting character who behaved crudely, no thanks to being raised in a village. She kept hovering around the male lead and eventually provoked the female lead, who had a System, and was cheated into losing her company shares. Her own father married her off to a violent, abusive husband, and she ended her life as cannon fodder due to one of his violent fits. To avoid that tragic end, He Miao made two choices. The first was to escape the He family as soon as possible, while the second was…

Asking the male lead out for a meeting, she told him, “I don’t love you anymore. Let’s annul our engagement.” Jing Yan, who was still racking his brains on how he could get away from her annoying presence, exclaimed, “Are you serious?”Seeing that he was distrustful, He Miao took out the engagement gifts and stuffed them into his hands, ignoring his scornful reaction as she turned to leave. The annulled engagement meant half of her previous tragic fate was avoided, which improved her mood considerably. Hugging the little dog she adopted, she peppered it with kisses in her cheerful spirit, ignoring the fact that it stiffened in her arms…

Still, it started to act weird recently as it would run circles around her in the morning while throwing a fuss at night and trying to run outside, even succeeding a few times. He Miao consulted many veterinarians and experts on the matter, but she did not know that the dog’s rebellious attitude was because Jing Yan’s soul had transmigrated into it! Everyone knows that Jing Yan’s fiancee is an ugly, stupid, annoying village bumpkin who bugged him every day.

But she was at least tactful enough to annul their engagement. And yet, the same Jing Yan who had always acted high and mighty knelt in front of a fairy-like girl to help her put on her shoes as he asked unhappily, “It’s already been so long… Can we get engaged again already?”Everyone stared blankly, dumbstruck. Wasn’t his fiancee supposed to be ugly and stupid? She’s clearly enchantingly beautiful! Who spread those rumors in the first place?!

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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.”