The Extra is a Genius!? - Chapter 91: Aftermath II

Gu Zuo: Are you sick?

Gongyi Tianheng: You have medicine?

Gu Zuo: You’re sick!

Gongyi Tianheng: If I say I’m sick, can you cure me?

Gu Zuo: If I say I have medicine, would you want it?

Gongyi Tianheng: However much you have is how much I want.

Gu Zuo: However much you want is how much I have.

Gongyi Tianheng: Then bring it all out.

Gu Zuo: …

Simply speaking, a scaredy-cat shou transmigrated and had to think of a way to survive. He had a golden finger called Medicine Refining System, but unfortunately, he didn’t have the ingredients needed to refine medicine and level up.

A great young master to an empire’s preeminent clan had a super high IQ, but his potential for cultivation was low. Unfortunately, pill refiners were too hard to develop, and weren’t restricted to his personal service. But he could acquire plenty of ingredients.

Two people, one was sick and one had medicine. Therefore, the one who was sick kept the one who had medicine, and everyone was happy.

It is a parallel world that is full of Star Power. Star Maps, Star Techniques, Star Pets, and the Awakened are rampant. Jiang Xiao, whose soul travelled to this world, has a special internal Star Map within his body and goes on to become a Medical Awakened.

Earth was supposed to be a safe haven.And for a time—it was.Until one night, golden stars lit up the sky like cosmic flames. The heavens swirled, the winds howled, and the world braced for its end. But just as quickly as it came... the phenomenon vanished.Weeks later, everything changed.Humans began to awaken powers once thought to exist only in fantasy. Skills—mystical, world-shaking abilities. Some used them for good. Others unleashed devastation.What could a gun do against a man who could turn into a living bomb?Portals tore through the sky, connecting Earth to monstrous realms. Beasts, demons, and nightmares poured into the world. Amid the chaos, powerful humans rose to fight back—and won. The survivors called them one thing: Heroes.Among them, one boy was left behind.Han Trystan—orphaned during the Sendok Calamity—carries the burden of rebuilding his parents' legacy, protecting his three younger siblings, and finding a cure for his dying aunt. But all of that hinges on one thing: awakening a powerful Skill.And when his time finally comes…> Name: Han TrystanSkill: Book FormationRank: EThe lowest rank. A joke. Practically powerless. Hope? Shattered.Until Han discovers the truth.His skill isn’t “Book Formation.” It’s something far greater.Creation. Not just of weapons or armors. But artifacts, pills, barriers—even other Skills.The world labeled him weak. But he was never meant to follow their system—he was meant to break it.Years later…> “Did I see that right...?”“Yeah. He just wiped out hundreds S-Rank monsters—alone.”“So the title ‘White-Black-Haired Monster’... it wasn’t exaggerated after all.”In a field of fallen beasts, one man stands untouched. Eyes calm. Power immeasurable.> “Weaklings.” Han mutters.Follow Han Trystan’s journey from the lowest-ranked misfit to one of the most powerful beings in the multiverse—and witness the rise of a legend the system tried to erase.

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.”