My Beloved - Chapter 519 - HAN LUO IS MISSING

Noir, third son of a “beggar noble,” lost his job and was at a loss, but fortune struck just as he was contemplating becoming an adventurer.

Tong, a sinner who was suffering endless torment in hell because of his mistake he had done in his previous life, was giving other chance to redeem himself by the devil.

This novel is also known as Deep Ocean Survival: A Submarine From The Start

The whole people traveled through, and everyone was trapped in the ocean abyss two thousand meters below the alien ice layer!

There is only one basic pioneer ship at the start!

Food, oxygen, water pressure…
Unpredictable seabed turbulence…
The powerful and terrifying Abyss Siren…
Evil and mysterious parasitic flora…

With all kinds of potential threats that follow everywhere, this road to survival is doomed to be extremely difficult!

However, when everyone was desperate for the hardships of survival, Meng Lei was calm and composed.

Because he found that he could actually see the system prompt!

“At a distance of 500 meters, a shipwreck of an alien pioneer was found, and the supplies inside are enough to make you rich!”

“At a distance of 1200 meters, I found a doomsday worm, rush up and kill it, and you will become the brightest cub wandering in the dark abyss!”

“The distance is 4,500 meters, and the ruins of an alien civilization are found. The danger level is SSS! Why are you standing still, turn around and run!”

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”