Reincarnated as a Divine Tree - Chapter 113: Lower Totem

‘Less than a month old… I became the the great empire’s treasured princess…!’

At eighteen, her mother died in a car accident, leaving her all alone in the world. One day, her kindness in rescuing someone led to a life-changing transformation.She was provided with food and accommodation, and someone even arranged for “360-degree personal protection” for her!Just when she thought she had picked up a pie from the sky, she was tied up and sent to a training camp, embarking on a tough yet passionate new journey.Bully her? With Taekwondo, she'll beat you until you can't tell north from south!Compete with her in sniping? Rookies, step aside, she's challenging the strongest sniper!Doubt her hacking skills? Come on, sister will show you what playing with computers is all about!She stood out in the camp with high profile, top in every category, who would dare compete against her?Back home, the little overlord turned into a docile rabbit, utterly bewitching someone!Unable to endure it any longer, he dragged the little overlord to the civil affairs office and registered their marriage.At night, he returned home, and righteously set about 'educating' her!

My grandfather is very eccentric, performing daily rituals of offering incense to himself, standing in front of his own spirit tablet and eating candles.Villagers are fearful of my grandfather.I am fearful of him too.Later, I discovered that what they were afraid of was not my grandfather, but me.Even grandfather is afraid of me....My name is Chen Shi.The Chen of honesty, the Shi of sincerity.

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.”