MTL - Love in Another Life: My Gentle Tyrant - v2 Chapter 479 Chitose Lotus

Entering a clichéd female novel world by accident. As long as he changes the negative perceptions of four female protagonists towards men, he can return to the real world with a reward of one billion. At first, Ji Mu thought this was a way to get rich, but as time went by, he gradually realized that something was wrong.“System, didn’t you tell me that these female protagonists extremely despise men, and no matter how good I am to them, it would purely be a friendship?”As Ji Mu looked at the few female protagonists in front of him, their cheeks blushing, their eyes filled with pink hearts, and constantly closing in on him, he broke out in a cold sweat, shrinking into a corner and shaking.“I’m going to ask you one last time, are you really sure that this is just pure friendship?”[Host, forget about friendship, do you know what a juicer is?]Faced with the system’s sudden nonsensical question, he swallowed nervously, feeling an increasingly ominous premonition.“W-what do you mean?”[Just a friendly reminder…]The system paused, its tone filled with helplessness and despair.[All four of them are in front of you.]…If you were simultaneously pursued by beautiful girls with different personalities, what would you choose?Only children make choices; normal people know to turn around and run.“I can’t even handle one, let alone four!”Ji Mu desperately clung to the doorframe and struggled in desperation before being dragged into the room: “System, save me!!!”

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.”

In the middle of the night, looking at the woman in his embrace, he smiled devilishly, “With your discontentment, do you want me to continue?”