Restart:Untalented Man - Chapter 205 First Hospital

Yohan wakes up ten years in the past, back when he still lived with his uncle and hadn’t yet lost his parents’ massage parlour. With a strange book filled with wellness techniques in his hands, he decides to live differently this time—more aware, more purposeful, and maybe even more fulfilled.

Want to burn Night City to ashes?Want to overthrow these corporate enterprises?Want to try a fully immersive virtual reality game?What are you waiting for? Quickly order “Future Horizon - Cyberpunk”! You won't regret it! Free spots available!Huang Ban, Military Tech, Kangtao, Biotech, Su Petrochem: Where did these cyber nutcases come from?Ye Corporation: Don't look at me, you wouldn't mistake these jumping monkeys for rogue AI, would you?Blue Eyes: I don't know them.Night City's hottest sex icon: Why does every one of these lunatics want to kill me for a photo souvenir?Regina: Lin Miao, there are suddenly a lot of cyber psychopaths on the streets, do you have any clues?Lin Miao (whipping out a whip): I know, they are my loyal machine servantsPlayer: Dog planner, get out here! Who taught you that implants need a separate set of equipment? Guns and bulletproof vests aside, even the damn body requires me to pay? And Adam Heavyhammer, Darling~~ My secret weapon will give you an unexpected surprise~~

DING!![You killed a Level 3 Mutant Zombie for the first time!]-----DING!![You have crossed the limit of humanity! Entering the mutation stage!]-----DING!![Congratulations, user! You are now a being beyond human beings!]-----Being a good person cost him his life. When death sent him back, he vowed to take revenge and finish the job.Behind the icy cold that grips the world and the red light that fills the sky day and night, he must defy the zombie apocalypse.A safe house, unlimited food and drink, every conceivable weapon and a system to help him... But he has only two things on his mind: Survival and revenge.

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.”