The Transcendent Godslayer - Chapter 16: Elyon, Eliot

A seemingly ordinary training exercise led Chen Jian and his squad into a completely different time and space.In the post-apocalyptic world, monsters run rampant, and the surviving humans struggle to live under their terrifying claws.To fight the monsters, the living have abandoned everything.Human nature no longer exists; beastliness is the mainstream.To defeat them, one must first become them.-----------------Chen Jian was supposed to be like the others here, pursuing the maddening evolution.But, when the tungsten-core armor-piercing round first penetrated the Kui Niu's keratin armor, he suddenly discovered...Perhaps there is another way to stay alive?

Tens of billions of people around the world come to the heavens to kill the world at the same time.

Hundreds of countries including Lighthouse Country, Dragon Country, Sakurajima Country compete!

Qin Feng awakened his supreme talent at the beginning!

SSS-level talent – endless extraction!

He can extract everything! Including extracting gods and demons!

【Successful extraction! You get space skills! 】

【Successful extraction! You get time skills! 】

[The extraction is successful! You get 100 strength attributes! 】

[The extraction is successful! You get 100 points of agility! 】

[The extraction is successful! You have obtained A-level talent! 】

[The extraction is successful! You have obtained an S-level talent! 】

[Successful extraction! You get SS-level talent! 】

Since then, Qin Feng has started the road of infinite harvesting……

- 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.”