Perfect Superstar - Chapter 17

The cosmic player, trapped inside a colossal alien spaceship for 10,000 years, clung to the hope of one day returning to Earth. Abducted and forced to adapt to the dangers of the spaceship, he must do whatever it takes to survive. With anger burning in his heart, he vows revenge against the aliens who tore his life apart.Fantasy World and Adventure start later in the story.What to expect: Fantasy World and Adventure start later in the story. This novel is mostly fantasy, which you will see more later in the story. Also, 1st person writing will eventually switch to 3rd person writing later in the story as more characters are introduced.Keep reading to find out more.Other tags: Isekai, Evolution, Dungeon, Revenge, Summoning, Sci-fi, Romance.

Feng Yun transmigrates into a fantasy world filled with magical powers and immortals.Just as he was wondering about his future, the system activated...[Ding, activation confirmed. The novice gift package will be issued automatically.][Ding, congratulations to the host for obtaining a random special physique: Sacred Dao Body of Chaos.][Ding, congratulations to the host for obtaining the Supreme Foundation Building Treasure.][Ding, congratulations to the host for obtaining a hundred million top-grade spirit stones.][Ding, congratulations to the host for obtaining an immortal grade soul-strengthening elixir.]Hahah... money, power Immortality, beauties, I am getting all...

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.”