She's a Passerby, But Can See the Protagonist's Halo - Chapter 63

The world has changed, and so have the people.

The villainous young master Dark Demon finally recalled the memories of his previous life at the sorting ceremony of the Dueling Academy. He was reborn in a very strange Galgame world.

And he was the ultimate villain in the game, the Demon God of Seven Original Sins!

Superbia、Invidia、Ira、Accidia、Avaritia、Gula、Luxuria！

Once any one of these seven indicators broke through the critical value, he would irreversibly transform into the Demon God!

In the era of Saint Marian, where the demons had been completely destroyed and the demon king had fallen into eternal sleep, no heresy was allowed to survive!

In this brutal world ruled by the law of the jungle, Ximen Wei is driven by his desire to return home and escape his past regrets and feuds.

As he becomes increasingly obsessed with achieving his goal, he loses his emotions and humanity, resorting to any means necessary, no matter how unscrupulous or immoral.

He becomes a symbol of massacre and death, a demon god feared throughout the Qi World for his willingness to kill anyone who stands in his way or possesses something he needs.

Follow Ximen Wei's journey as he rises to power, terrorizing those around him in his quest to become a powerful demon god.

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.”