Cultivation towards immortality, starting from being a fisherman - Chapter 132 - 105 It must all be help from Ghostly God!_2

It’s a story that happened long, long ago, in a continent far, far away, about gods and mortals, sword and magic, war and peace, and of course love and hatred.

Amon was a poor miner’s son in a remote town in the kingdom of Hittite. Along with the discovery of a marvelous gem, his fate was changed. People on this land called it Gods’ Tear. But wait, what were the gods? It was said that the gods created the world. Then who created the gods?

Forced by the tantalizing fate, Amon had to struggle to find out the truth behind this world of magic and gods……

- Description from Novelupdates

Lan Xuan smiled gently as she said, “My dear sister, who told you to obstruct my path? Your man belongs to me, your dowry belongs to me, your everything, belongs to me.”

【Matrix Survival Game】

All players have the same initial resources.

Each person can explore ten rooms per day, and there may be dangers and supplies in the rooms.

Do your best to survive.

…

After reading all the introductions, Li Zheng heard a voice in his ear: The daily treasure chest is being drawn, and the quality is random…

Congratulations, you have drawn a silver treasure chest and obtained a silver-quality blueprint “Normal Edition Detector”, along with several supplies.

Congratulations, you have drawn a bronze treasure chest and obtained a bronze-quality blueprint “Air Purifier”, with some supplies.

Congratulations, you have drawn the white treasure chest and obtained the platinum quality blueprint “Ion Cutting Blade”, “Intermediate Gene Culture Solution Recipe”, “TJP Type Shield Blueprint”, and a lot of materials.

…

Congratulations, you have drawn the super god-level treasure chest, and the reward……

Li Zheng looked at the brilliant treasure chest in front of him and rubbed his hands together excitedly.

- 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.”