You Practice Immortality, I Farm - Chapter 842: This is what ordinary spiritual planters are like

The character with the highest difficulty and the worst performance, Baek Yuseol, was considered a trash character in-game because he could not use magic in a fantasy setting where everyone else could.However…[Because the wrong ending has been reached, 90% of Aether World has been destroyed.] [Please reach the “True Ending.”] Suddenly, those words echoed in my mind before I was transmigrated to the Aether World.[You can use the skill “Blink.”] “Just why did I possess this character?”Blink was the only magic skill I had.Surviving in Stella Academy among genius mages, I became the notorious Blink Mage.Alternative title: I Became A Flashing Genius At The Magic Academy

Jinhyuk is a person who likes to immerse himself in the role of the Villains but there is one villain which he particularly hates,

Reed Adeleheights Roton, the false final boss of the game.

The one who created the Seven Disasters.

The one who due to his inferiority complex led to his own doom.

The one who turned a cute innocent girl into the monstrous First Disaster codenamed Cosmo.

“If I was the Villain then I would have raised her a little better.”

And thus God granted his wish and now he was the false final Villain Reed Adeleheights Roton, the creator of the Seven Disasters.

How different would the world turn out to be now?

I lived for you in the last lifetime, everything I did was for you, yet you wanted me to die; so, this time, life is mine to live! This world lied to me, betrayed me, and humiliated me, and I am back to change everything!

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”