Apocalyptic Era: Starting from picking up a Bishoujo - Chapter 697 - 655: Taking Action

In the vast and boundless sky called Chaos, there exist countless universes. Ye Xiao, a person who rose from one of these universes was reborn in the Land of Morning Stars.

With the blessings of Morning Stars, Ye Xiao again rose in power and solved the mystery of the Lotus of Chaos that was hiding an entire universe within, and was capable of doing countless miracles.

Born with nine special abilities, Ye Xiao walked down the path of King, the person known as the First King to rule over the entire Chaos, captured boundless stars, devoured countless Universes, and finally created his own Chaos, becoming the King of Chaos.

This is the story of Ye Xiao adventuring into Chaos to create Chaos and rule Chaos.

Everything Is Chaos!

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【Light-hearted and humorous + No female lead + No knives + Survivalist protagonist】- caution, this story is engaging.Chen Xun traversed into the vast and boundless world of cultivation, awakening the Immortal Ascension System, which unexpectedly granted him a companion, a long-lived spiritual beast.I, Chen Xun, have no interest in fighting or killing, nor do I wish to provoke anyone. I only want to travel the world with my old ox and witness all the worldly splendors. However, one day, I inadvertently discovered a secret….

Drunk, I lie on the lap of a beauty; awake, I command the power of the world.From being unknown to dominating the world, when Lin Fan looks back on the path he has traveled, it is all laid out by beautiful women!

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.”