MTL - Eternal Sacred King - Chapter 3350 reincarnation

The youngest Wiseman of the continent, Chu Tian, has traveled 30,000 years back in time to the age of antiquity due to an accident.

On the Star Network there is a gourmet food broadcast, where all you can see are a pair of hands. However each dish that this broadcast comes out with is earthshakingly delicious. What’s more, the broadcast anchor’s voice is simply perfect!

With the broadcast’s rising popularity, several food programs extended him an olive branch. When the anchor appeared on screen, as they suspected, he is handsome enough to incur the wrath of both men and gods! The fans licked their screens with increasing frenzy, but after licking a while, they discovered…

Fans:…Wait a minute, isn’t this our fatally-ill idol who hasn’t long to live?

Small Gong: Take these damned nutrient solutions and throw them away! And get me that broadcast anchor!

- Description from Novelupdates

What is love?Love has a lot of meanings.To scientists, it is something that arises as a result of hormonal changes in the human body. To philosophers, it Is something that is triggered in human consciousness when two souls connect. it means a lot of different meanings to different people. Love is happiness to some, it is pain, sadness, ecstasy. It is an emotion that cannot really be explained. It is something that is meant to be felt.You also choose to be in love.But that didn’t happen to me. I didn’t get the opportunity to pick who I wanted to explore these crazy feelings with.It was chosen for me.I had no choice but to love him and he had no choice but to love me.Our love story is the strangest but also the most beautiful ever told.This is our chosen love.

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.”