Miracle Pill Maker Bullies the Boss - Chapter 6: Departure

Bong Jum, humanity's last hope, died on the final floor of the tower and transmigrates into another world as an immortal bat of a weak race, finding himself in a new reality. He needs to evolve into a higher race to gain the power to utilize his immortality; otherwise, he will have to either hide or be tormented by powerful foes.

[ALERT]

[Transformation Interrupted]

[Initiating again....]

[Failed again...]

[Finding a suitable species and transforming from the beginning...]

[Found species name: Bat]

[Transforming the body into a Bat]

[Transformation Completed]

Using his power as a Vampire, he will turn humans into Vampires and create his own Kingdom with the power of the System that he acquired when he reincarnated. His loyal servants, under his command, will do his bidding, and he will rise as an Emperor of the new world, where both humans and Vampires could co-exist once again. Or will it be a world dominated solely by Vampires?

Disclaimer: This web novel is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and settings are products of the author's imagination. The story is intended purely for entertainment purposes and does not aim to offend or hurt anyone's feelings. Reader discretion is advised.

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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.”