Gearbound: Cyberpunk 2077 - Chapter 30

The leader of the thousand demons, the Demon God Chun YeoWoon. Due to an unfortunate accident, he had been sent to the distant future.

Yun Rong, the mountain demon, had slept for 2,000 years. She could only be awakened by the offering and prayers from the common people. However, one day she was rudely awakened by a weird machine called excavator.

Yun Rong was really angry. Which wicked person dares to move my mountain! She decided to show herself to the person in charge to resolve the situation.

Yun Rong: “Who permitted you to move my mountain?”

Development Manager: “Our company’s General Manager.”

Yun Rong: “Outrageous! Take me to see him!”

The Development Manager disdainfully said: “Do you think just because you want to see our General Manager you could meet him?”

Yun Rong modestly asked: “Then how could I meet him?”

Development Manager: “Minimum you have to be worth 100 million!”

From then on, Yun Rong went down the mountain to raise her worth to at least 100 million only to discover that the world had changed a lot after 2,000 years. Apart from blessing the common people with good weather for crops and abundant harvest, she couldn’t do anything else. She realized then it would be quite difficult to raise her worth to 100 million.

Lu He Nian said pamperingly: “Not difficult at all. What’s mine is yours.”

Yun Rong said innocently: “Wishing your family luck and prosperity!”

( mountain demon is also known as mountain god )

- 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.”