Cultivation: Start From Simplifying Martial Arts Techniques - Chapter 960 - : Decay

He transmigrated and got a system but Lin Feng’s pressure is as big as a mountain.

System main quest: Lin Feng creates a school, establishing history’s number 1 sect, Lin Feng himself becoming the number 1 founder.

And so to become history’s number 1 founder Lin Feng started to work hard.

“Your name is Shi Tianhao? Natural born supreme king but it was stolen by your cousin. Now being raised in a little village your father placed you in? Come come come, come with master, we’ll let those people know that justice that is owed must be returned!”

“Your name is Xiao Yan? A genius in the past, now a loser. Your fiance even came over and humiliated you by breaking off the engagement? Come come come, come with master, we’ll let that brat know the meaning of don’t bully a youngster because he’s poor!”

“Your name is Zhu Yi? The bastard son of a marquis, suppressed by your father. Your mother was the previous saint but she was killed? Come come come, come with master, we’ll let your dad know the meaning of the world is big, fists are… no, reason is the biggest!”

- Description from Novelupdates

Go back to 2000.

Lin Feng didn’t want to disturb the situation, he just wanted to protect the things he cherished.

However, there is no need to explain the open life.

Since it’s all over again, there’s no turning back when you open the bow!

- Description from novelbuddy

Sagiri was born in silence, no cry, no breath, no heartbeat, until a pulse of ancient energy tore through the air and marked him as the last child of a dead people. Cold, disciplined, and frighteningly calm for his age, Sagiri has spent his life hiding a power even he doesn’t fully understand. He does not smile. He does not fear. He does not allow anyone close. Because the thing living inside him 'The Echo' never sleeps.

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.”