MTL - Death Benefit - Chapter 956v2 Star Cave Mass Burial Mound and Covenant

After the nth time of failing a marriage meeting, Xiang Han got himself a job: good treatment, high salary, free world traveling with food provided, house provided and even a ‘lover provided’?!

At first, he thought, apart from having to travel into the body of a scum cannon fodder, a scheming fake white lotus, everything else was okay. It was only later he realized that saving the target was also a problem. His imagination was neverending, even eating a cup of ramen was seen as a way to rouse his ( target’s) interest!

Xiang Han: This target is a no-go.

Certain Target: Very good, you’ve already managed to rouse my interest.

Xiang Han: Go outside and make a left turn to the optometrist, go get your eyes healed! Additionally, this “lover provided” isn’t necessary.

A Certain Target: This is certainly necessary!

- Description from novelupdates

In a world where dungeon runners rise to fame by mastering their classes and conquering impossible threats, Alexander was never meant to be part of it. No class. No path. Just a quiet life.When a mysterious portal drags him into a hidden realm known as his Inner Path, Alexander unlocks a class no one has seen before: Beholder. There’s no fanfare. No guidance. Only eyes that see too much, and power that threatens to unravel his mind with every use.Now, trapped in an abyssal dungeon that reshapes itself around eldritch laws, Alexander must survive alone.But with each victory, his vision sharpens. His spells twist reality. And the deeper he goes, the more the world outside should start to worry.Because when he returns-They won’t be able to look away.

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.”