Inner Voice: All Heroines Hear My Inner Voice - Chapter 711: Summon a servant from Fate

Adrien’s tale is a thunderous symphony of vengeance, mystery, and ascension. Awakened with no memory but wielding a shadow-forged blade, he traverses a fractured world where gods rule through fear and silence. His forgotten blood burns with the legacy of the Godslayers—beings once feared even by the divine. As he hunts corrupted gods and unearths shards of unimaginable power, Adrien evolves from a wandering enigma to a force capable of defying fate itself. Twisting through betrayal, hidden empires, and awakening legends, his journey is not just one of survival, but of reclaiming divinity to break the sky itself.

[You are now the Editor] The administrator said in a proud tone

“Okay... so what exactly are my duties as the Editor, I doubt I have to review people's work”

[That's the simple part, you edit]

“What?... I just edit, what does that even mean”

[That is up to you to figure out]

...

What do you do when you are given phenomenal power and authority over what is possibly, all of creation. Armed with a literal omniscient being as a servant.

Facing an unknown event prophesized to possibly end all life. Follow as David uses his newfound power and authority to survive and also save as many people as he can.

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Ling Chen was a peerless master hiding within the city hustle as a nobody-courier, until he stumbled into the world of the beautiful CEO, Nanrong Wanqing, the 'untouchable flower' of Donghai City, due to one of his work assignments. From then on, watch as his life is thrown into an exciting disarray!

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.”