Developing My Little World - Chapter 36: Rust, The Clan

Two heroes of the game Legend of Heroes 2 who were rotten waters*.

Ziel Grisel (Nijisaki ken) succeed defeated the fallen god-king in divine war. But he was cursed by the god and lost all his emotions. Until finally he created the reincarnation magic of his skill to remove the curse.

900 years later it has passed and ken successfully reincarnated. Unfortunately, The curse cannot be eliminated. And ken must be forced to live his life without his emotions. Ken finally Determined to live a quiet and peaceful life in those days as a….Butler?

A phoenix is a creature of legends, a wonder of the world, an imagery of life and destruction. This fabled creature signifies the rise of a hero in a virtual world where battles occur for the sake of honor and glory!

Zhang Yang was a professional gamer in the first and most fantastic game that revolutionized the world: God’s Miracle. A game where traditional knowledge in RPGs did not matter anymore, players would have to manually target and evade attacks, giving rise to a significant gap in skill between a professional and an amateur gamer.

Zhang Yang’s downfall came a little too soon. His girlfriend was snatched, his guild was harassed and disbanded, and he was even driven to commit suicide! Jumping off the top floor of a hotel, Zhang Yang seemed as though he was soaring like a phoenix. Little did he know that the end of his life also signified his rise from the ashes.

- 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.”