Seizing Dreams - Chapter 9 - Totem

I am the most talented guardian of this era!

But no one knows, I still have a second template, the knife cuts the flesh, the intention cuts the soul!

You may have seen the meatless juggernaut, but you have never seen a full-time meat shield with an explosive attack!

- Description from novelbuddy

When he returned to the World of Martial Arts, the game was filled with blood and battles! Chen Kaixin had chased after the footsteps of the one emperor, two empresses, three princes, seven dukes, and thirteen aces for three years, but during the eve of the Sword Among Us tournament in Mount Hua, he was ambushed by evil bastards, and was killed so much that his level dropped to that of a newbie. He completely lost the chance to join the ranks of the powerful players in the game! In great disappointment, Kaixin quit the game and got drunk so that he could forget his sadness, but during that stormy night, Chen Kaixin found that he had actually dreamed for a total of three years, because when he woke up again, he woke up to three years ago, when he was still a student.

The future of the world and the direction of time possess infinite possibilities. Even the same event may lead to two completely opposite outcomes due to a millisecond deviation in completion time.

I have led the Evolutionary Deluge, causing species worldwide to evolve and creating a splendid era of warriors. I have also allowed the invasion of evil gods, bringing those indescribable ancient dominators to the mortal world, instantly corrupting the Earth with evil beings.

In the infinite space-time, there are a million possibilities. I have witnessed the divinization of machinery and have seen the revival of myths. Humans call me: The Creator of Everything, The Eternal Supreme God, The Cause of All Results, The Origin of Everything.

But.. I prefer to call myself a humble observer.

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.”