Depthless Hunger - Chapter 178: From Acid to Crystal

Shoved into the backseat of his father's car right after graduation, Riley Hale ended up marching toward a company building with a bagged lunch and a pen.Still in his toga, the fresh graduate never thought he’d land in the office of the continent’s top lizard, err, dragon, as his aide.And that would’ve driven any person wishing for a corporate career to tears. After all, who wouldn’t want to serve the fastest ticket up the corporate ladder: Kael Dravaryn, the infamously elegant, unhinged, and extremely overpowered Dragon Lord of the continent?Well, that would be Riley.The same Riley who didn’t expect to spend his days dodging fireballs, dressing his boss in robes more complicated than dark magic, and serving as a literal target during morning sparring.Now trapped in a job he never truly agreed to, the hardworking aide decided to hold out until it was time for his glorious resignation. But leaving a dragon’s clutches could never be easy, especially one with elemental mastery and a finger worth a private army.Yet, as Riley, who longs to quit, attempts to navigate ancient politics, wyvern threats, and other accidents (many of which are definitely not his fault), he might just hallucinate himself into seeing something beneath his boss’s arrogance and molten glares.Maybe he’d actually care if Riley got turned to ash.

As soon as he crossed over, Su Mu came to another world.

In this world, there are warriors, qi refiners, and all kinds of terrifying ghosts and monsters!

A good rebirth simulator turned into a death simulator because it was too dangerous.

For him, death is not the end, but the beginning.

In the simulation again and again, thousands of demons have been derived!

The flesh and blood are put into the pot, divided and eaten, turning into a bloody skeleton.

He died in a wrongful battle, his body did not rot, and he turned into a dry zombie.

Introduce thunder into the body, turn extreme yin into yang, and transform into a fierce reggae.

Devouring demon souls, suffocating the sky, turning into an undead ghost car.

Some people become immortals.

There are also people who die into demons!

- Description from novelbuddy

After a one-night stand, she faked her death and transformed into his flash-married ugly wife, while he didn't know that she was the woman from that night.Is the ugly wife really so unfashionable and greedy for food and lust? It's all an act. She's only trying to hide her real identity.They survived in the cracks of various schemes. When her hidden identities were exposed, the man's eyes were filled with coldness: “You pretended to be ugly and dumb, are you kidding me?”She smiled faintly: “Didn't you get any joy and pleasure from it?”He frowned: “You deceived me for my looks!”She held her forehead: “I can only blame you for being so good-looking!”He looked as if he wanted to swallow her whole: “I'm not someone to mess with.”She responded calmly: “It's getting late. Time to wash up and go to bed!”

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.”