A Demon's Journey - Chapter 184 - A Foolish Tactic

Five years have passed since the Elves invaded Earth.

The poor and criminals of the Republic of Ascaria are forced to join the ranks of the soldiers on the front lines while the rich and high-ranking government officials hide behind walls.

Erend Drake is a young man who must go out and fight so his family can live in a squalid shelter within the walls.

One night in the battle Erend had to die because he was killed by the Elves.

But suddenly he wakes up the next day with a mysterious power.

[Congratulations, you have been chosen to be the holder of Systema.]

[Please choose the available skills]

[ Dragon Armor ]

[ Dragon Claw ]

[ Dragon Eyes ]

[ Dragon Wings ]

[ Fire Breathing ]

Erend did not expect that he would become a Dragonborn. The strongest race feared by the Elves and the humans.

Ling Jing Shu lived with humiliation and heavy burdens all her life, and only at the moment before death, she suddenly woke up and repented. If god gives her a chance to live for a second time, she will say three words to the man who let her down: You Get Lost!!

- Description from Novelupdates

[Sweet and refreshing, group pet, scumbag]

Si Fuqing opened her eyes, not only was her luck taken away, but everyone also asked her to get out of the entertainment circle.

When she relived her life again, she just wanted to lie down with salted fish. Who would have guessed that there would always be people who didn’t have long eyes jumping around, pulling on her to rub her heat, and she didn’t have any real ability. Have to pack up anyway.

Si Fuqing squeezed his wrist and moved.

Later, the Internet frantically scolded her for posting Yu Yao over her own strength, spreading rumors that her private life was disorderly, and—

International diva: I can stand here today, thanks to Qingqing

Top 1 male top stream: stay away from my sister @ 玉耀

Even the official of the International Games: Congratulations to Si Fuqing for winning the 13th individual gold medal, waiting for a retirement

At first, Yu Yao dismissed Si Fuqing, but when he learned the truth, he couldn’t regret it and knelt down and just wanted her to take another look, so he could only post a clarification Weibo: @Si Fuqing, 9 aunts are good.

That day, the entire network was paralyzed.

·

According to historical records, Emperor Yin became famous at a young age, he was perfect and powerful, and he had the world in his heart. However, he died at the age of 27 due to illness. His life was short. He had no wife, no concubine, no children and no grandchildren. He was the white moonlight male god of countless people.

No one knows, he opened his eyes again and came to 1500 years later.

This time, he saw the prosperous summer that he had long imagined.

·

Soon after the identity of Emperor Yin was exposed, Si Fuqing learned that the idol was by her side. She admired it very much and just wanted to—

Si Fuqing: Work hard!

Emperor Yin: Promise to each other

Si Fuqing: ? ? ?

I’m working hard but you want me?

·

Almighty Yan Dian Goddess × Killing Qinggui Emperor

From the black of the whole network to the top of the gods, by the way, 1v1 with the male gods

- 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.”