MTL - Quick Wear: The Host is Dangerous and Sultry - Chapter 1082 Women disguised as men: the delicate palms of powerful officials (83)

In The Swordsman, I am Yue Buqun! In Legend of the Condor Heroes, I am Ouyang Feng! In Tianlong Babu, I am Ding Chunqiu! …In Datang Shuanglong, I am Shi Zhixuan! …I am me, a big villain boss who walks in the heavens!

 Swordsman, The Legend of the Condor Heroes, The Eight Parts of the Dragon, Little Li Feidao, The Legend of Double Dragons of the Tang Dynasty, Fengyun, Zhuxian, Yangshen, Shading the Sky, Perfect World, Eternal Life…

- Description from novelbuddy

A century after the Spirit Qi Awakening, the world enters a new era. Humans are able to absorb the world’s awakened spirit qi, allowing them to tread on a new path—spirit qi occupations!

Chapter release at 8pm every day - UTC +10

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“Cataclysm: Worlds End”

The name of the game that threw the world into disaster. 3 months after its release it descended onto Earth, merging with it and creating an apocalypse.

Hordes of bloodthirsty monsters were let loose onto the waking world, killing and destroying everything in its wake. Landmarks were torn down, whole continents left desolate in the destructive wake of the Cataclysm.

As the Cataclysm descended, every human regardless of age heard a monotonous voice in their heads...

[Choose your Class]

The story follows Jayce, an accomplished Swordsman who is killed by a boss monster 10 years after the apocalypse began. One of his last sentences before his death was how he dreamed to be a Chef when he grew up.

After his death, he returns back in time to the release day of Cataclysm. Having 3 months to try and figure out a way to improve his odds of survival this time around.

And the day finally arrived.

[Choose your Class]

[Class: Chef has been chosen]

“W-Wait what? I didn't even get a choice!”

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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.”