Leveling Up Wives In The Apocalypse - Chapter 397 Pretty damn smart!

Light and darkness are twins, blessings and curses coexist.Oh girl who stands upon the stage of destiny,May your path ahead be filled with blessings.------------Anko Probabilistic Narrative Writings：It's like telling stories by rolling dice. Just as many games offer various action and dialogue options that lead to different branching storylines, this book creates characters, advances the plot and builds the world view by providing a large number of different branches and using dice rolls to determine the outcome.

Corrupted by Angle Of Chaos.Cursed by the whispers of unknown beings.Stripped of will, power, and memory.Shon Eril makes a choice—an insane choice. Not bound by fate. Not forced by death. Not by his own will. But by a choice, a revelation. He steps into a book, and awakens in another body… Ibaan De Light.A vast world unfolds before him: towering machinery, advanced technology, mighty clans, secretive organizations, churches, sealed contracts, schools, endless metros and carriers, airships crossing the skies, and the unknown—the same frightening beings, the curse carriers!Here begins his journey, not as a hero, but as a servant of Willpower.Will he reclaim his will, or lose himself to its abyss?This is the tale of what he seeks… and what seeks him.***“I order you to understand me—my will, my choices and my beloved ones.”———————Extra Tags: #AcademyArc #Scoopy #Clans #SecretOrganizations #cults #mysteries #hidden identities #unknown beings #angels #daemons #deities etcJoin the Discord server for illustrations and more: https://discord.gg/djNAmGxJZ5

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 character he raised was a completely useless one which couldn’t even be used to see the ending, in other words, a total failure.

Not impossible, but refused…? It was absurd for a moment.

He woke up in a strange swamp in the middle of nowhere. As the very loser he had raised. “…In the first place, I wasn’t downloading anything illegal.”

A dark era running towards destruction. A survival story of a complete loser in order to return safely.

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