The New World - Chapter 415: A Dark Fantasy

Kujo Yuuri, who had been playing Elysia Online, finally changed her occupation to the sage of her desire. Then, she was asked whether to go to the true Elyasia or not and selected [Yes], and somehow went to another world. Furthermore, she became a small child.

The small sage Yuuri and her companions’ love and adventure fantasy.

Zhou Xiaoli, a carp living in Immortal Tai Yi’s lotus pond, transmigrated into a novel world and though she was supposed to be the female lead of it, another soul beat her to it!

After wandering as a ghost for 10 years in the novel world, she transmigrated into another body! Deemed a jinx, her grandparents disowned her and her family. Determined to build a better life for her family, she got to work! Soon, people in the village noticed that the Zhou family started having a lucky streak, and life could not be better!

Zhou Xiaoli’s father was no longer a fool, her mother was cured of her sickness while her siblings were all smart and resourceful. Zhou Xiaoli herself led the family as they cleared land in the wilderness, planted tea leaves and fruit trees, and started businesses… Life was beautiful.

That was when war struck, and the family was forced to leave and became refugees. Zhou Xiaoli: Don’t worry. I have a pocket dimension!

Arsene Academy – the best educational institution on the continent.

A place that’s famous for nurturing many talented people.

A warrior from a barbarian tribe enters the academy.

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.”