The King's Avatar – For The Glory - Chapter 5 - Friends from the Start, Opponents for Life (4)

Until he became the lowest-ranked master, his lonely and luckless life never changed.

Suddenly one day, a descendant injected him with a nanomachine, and the machine started ‘speaking’ to him.

“What? What are you talking about?”

This was beyond the boy’s knowledge, he turned pale.

The Nanomachine linked to his cerebrum realized the User was not understanding a single word it said.

“Who are you, and why are you doing this to me?”

“Nano Mashin?”

The boy’s face hardened.

Mashin was the deity the Mashin Religion worshipped, along with the Sacred Fire.

The religions’ Master communicated with Mashin.

“Um, are you really Mashin?”

The boy knelt down and asked with a trembling voice. At this, the Nanomachine attached to his cerebrum realized it had been misunderstood.

[Face-slapping satisfying story] [Beloved by all] [Smart female lead, adult CP with Sheng Yuxiao]Li Xiaoya was born in a poor mountain village. Her mother died when she was three, and her father ran off with a mistress.When she was seven, the “Life Swap” TV show crew came to the small village and immediately chose Xiaoya.But when filming began, they suddenly switched to the village chief’s granddaughter instead.Later, the chief’s granddaughter went to the big city and appeared on TV. Netizens praised her for being poised and well-behaved, saying she’d become the goddaughter of an incredibly wealthy family. How enviable!The netizens also said that Xiaoya from the same village was originally chosen, but supposedly she stole and grabbed things, cursed constantly – good thing she didn’t make it on the show!Xiaoya had no idea a chapter of life that should have been hers had been stolen…***On the second day of filming, the rich young master who was swapped to experience life in the small mountain village met the dirt-covered Xiaoya.Despite her young age, Xiaoya would stand on a stool to cook for him, trek through mountains to dig up wild vegetables for him, and even save the one piece of candy given out in the village to bring back to him, holding it until it melted.The arrogant young master’s heart completely melted.So while the village chief’s granddaughter was touring Disneyland in the big city,The young master was helping Xiaoya dig in the fields and carry manure.The life was too hard; the young master really couldn’t take it anymore. In a fit of anger, he summoned a group of rich second-generation kids to dig fields and carry manure together… Instantly it went viral online, crushing the ratings of the other group.**Later, she was recognized and taken back by a top wealthy family. Her grandfather was gravely ill, her uncles and aunts were either crazy or disabled. No worries! The young master helped her with everything!Even the fiercest villains fought to be her father!

I was transmigrated into a work I liked and finally came back.But after, I was dragged into an Academy Romance Novel, which I skipped over after only reading the prologue.There I found a half-broken possessors who regressed endlessly.

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.”