MTL - The Holy Lord In the Comic World - Chapter 279 : side quest starts

{MATURE— DARK ROMANCE, MENTION OF SA ON AND OFF SCREEN, BULLY, ABUSE}Read the warning before clicking to read, thank you.In a world ruled by wolves, I am the mistake that breathes.Well, my name is Lisa and I’m twenty one years old.I am the girl with no wolf. No rank. No name worth remembering. Just a human girl trapped in a pack that never wanted me. Scrubbing floors, serving tables, surviving insults , I’ve learned to stay invisible. Until the night of the coronation.Until them.Three brothers. Three Alphas. Fated by blood. Feared by all.And somehow, fated… to me?I didn’t ask for the bond. I didn’t ask for the fire in their eyes when they looked at me, or the hate that followed. I was never meant to belong to anyone, much less them. But fate is cruel, and the Moon has secrets she’s just begun to whisper.You think I will still be alive to tell the story

In the midst of the blue and purple neon lights, under the gray, metallic sky, it is the frontier of all data, the aftermath of a scientific revolution, also the border of fiction and reality.

Steel versus body; the past and the future.

Here, the Outer World and the Inner World exist alongside each other. It seems like the wall of time is right in front of your eyes.

Darkness gradually swallows the world.

But listen, my friend, we cannot use kindness to survive the darkness. We need fire.

In Tianlan Continent, there is a magic store called Origin Mall.

The Coke here can make people full of blood in an instant; the spicy bars here can make people fight leapfrog; the games here can make people improve their cultivation; the novels here can make people understand the techniques…

There are countless goods here, including leisure, entertainment, dining, training…

Oh, by the way, remember one thing, don’t make trouble in the store, because the owner of the store is very strong…

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.”