MTL - Steady Development From Douluo - Chapter 14 The system world is forcing the emperor!

With the flick of sleeves, it overturns.
With a thrust of punch, it shatters!
It’s a vast world filled with adept martial artists!

The ancient clash of the titans brings forth the wrath from heaven.
“They send down the thunder, they send down the fire! ”
They bolted the continents separating them into a land of 9 countries covering the 18 provinces, and the world therefore, ushers into the era resonating with the Dark Ages.

However, as the things run downhills, rise forth the cultivator team comprising the big deals.

Ye Shang, a young villager with a cinder burning in his heart thus, set off into the world of cultivation. A life-changing mystery! A competition for the throne! The winner becomes king!

What’s in store for him?

- Description from novelupdates

Opening his eyes, Long Tian finds himself in a scene where he's beating up a protagonist.

He's confused, until a deluge of foreign memories assaults his mind, leading him to a chilling realization: He has died... and transmigrated.

But there's a problem - he's become a villain!

At first, he's okay with this. But the more time passes, he notices something.

Why doesn't he have a system?!

This worries him. Going up against a protagonist without a system feels like a suicide mission.

But of course, he doesn't lose hope. He looks at his own identity.

The young master of an ancient family, check.

Rich and good-looking, check.

A genius with extraordinary talent, check.

Awakened the martial spirit of a dragon king, check.

With all of these, does he have any reason to complain?

“Goddamn protagonist, I will make you suffer!”

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Harem or not? I haven't actually made a decision about that. Let the storyline unfold, and we'll see in the future.

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He is the master of six kingdoms. As long as he wanted, his cavalry is ready to wipe off any country.

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.”