PREVIEW

... him of treating the issue properly before returning into the Dragon Eye.


Ye Zichen only felt that Liu Jing was a bit weird, but he didn’t think too much into it.


At the same time, with in Bingcheng’s Xiao family home.


“Dad, your body condition does not allow you to mess around like this.”


Su Qihu frowned as he sat on the sofa, while looking at Elder Su, who was grabbing the gourd tightly.


“I know my body the best. There is only benefits and no d ...

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This novel is also known as 1000 Years Later, Even My Weakest Follower Has Become A Demon King

After traveling through the game where he worked so hard to clear the level, Zhou Mu found that the whole world was stunned for some reason.

Why is the mainland united in its own name?

What’s going on with this religion in its own name?

What the hell are members of the royal family claiming to have their own bloodline? I wonder if this game doesn’t have this feature?

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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.”