MTL - Age of Collapse - Chapter 20 Red fangs

Ye Xiao was a superior cultivator in his previous life. The three factions of the realm kill millions of people every time they attempt to seize cultivation resources. Wealthy towns turn to wastelands in just a single night. They cover up their crime with an assertion that the towns were suffering from pestilence and disasters.

Have you heard of it?In the dead of night, if you turn on a music player, put on earphones, hide under the blanket, and listen to a single on loop…After it loops forty-four times, you will fall asleep. If you are unlucky when you open your eyes again, you will no longer be lying on your bed, but you will enter a strange space completely isolated from reality.That space… On the surface, it looks like the places we usually see—your bedroom, living room, underground parking garage, bathroom, basketball court, construction site, and so on. But if you observe carefully, you will discover that they are different… Everything is different.***This is the experience of an ordinary person who, after acquiring superpowers, transforms and grows step by step in Dead Ends to reach the peak.

[Thriller + Reasoning + System]

Strange recovery, strange rules and strange stories invaded all over the world.

As the chosen one, Zhou Bai entered the ghost talk game on behalf of the Great Xia Kingdom. The first ghost story is about a family of four.

[You live with your wife and parents. But remember, there are only three people in your family. ]

[You can trust your wife, unless she takes off the red hairpin.]

[You and your wife have never had a baby, so if you hear a baby crying in the middle of the night, don’t worry about it.]

[Remember, you cannot have sex with your wife.]

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”