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... her purity of true essence, the gate to the fifth-level True Profound Realm looked even more ancient and withered, as if it had been slumbering in the distant primordial age for countless millennia.

Looking at the thick rust on the gate, Liu Wuxie couldn't begin to fathom how many years it had existed before he had finally managed to summon it.

The Sky Devouring Divine Cauldron's cultivation technique had completely overturned his understanding. For most cultivators, the barriers ...

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A failed investor from 2017 got drunk and woke up in the 1980s. China is just opening up, and the economy is blooming. There is also the dissolution of the Soviet Union, the bursting of the Dot-com bubble and other financial crisis. He used his knowledge of the future and slowly build up his empire.

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Greek Mythology: I open a treasure chest at OlympusChapter 143: Mysterious God of war strategy Pallas!
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Qin Qing played a game and suddenly traveled to the world of Greek mythology and became Apollo, the God of light.

At this time, he discovered that the treasure chest system in the game had also traveled over.

Looking at the densely packed light spots on the map plate, he couldn’t help but fall into deep thought.

Um, Athena, don’t get me wrong, I’m just here to get a treasure chest. I didn’t break into your bedroom on purpose.

Zeus, please move your butt. My god-level treasure chest is under your throne.

Here, why is the super god treasure chest in Tartarus?

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Ava’s marriage was nothing like she had anticipated. Despite being married to the man she loved, she had endured nothing but humiliation and misery from her husband for the past five years.She put up with everything in the hopes of one day carving out a space in his heart. But her husband ultimately drove her to the breaking point when he handed her the divorce papers on their fifth anniversary, claiming that he loved someone else. He had taken all her family assets her father had left for her.The shocking truth that the man she had been in love with for ten years had caused her father’s death was the blow Ava couldn’t take it.Devastated, Ava didn’t want to give birth to his child in her womb.------“I loved you with all my heart and gave you everything, but you ruined me and my family, Dylan Brooks. I won’t give you this baby. This baby belongs to me and will go with me to the grave. A cruel man like you don’t deserve to be a father,” Ava said as she slit her wrist.“I regret loving you, Dylan. I wish I’ll never see you again in my next life.” These were her last words before she drifted into the lap of death.-------She thought this was the end of her life. But fate had other plans. She woke up in the past, four years ago, on the day of their first wedding anniversary.Since she was given another chance to rectify her mistakes, she vowed to protect her father and the family business. She resolved to cut all ties with her ruthless husband.But wait! Why did Dylan act so possessive and caring? Why did he declare she was the only one he wanted as his wife?Should she believe him and give him another chance? Or should she take revenge on him for what he did in her past life?--------“Please, Ava…come back to me,” Dylan pleaded with Ava on his knees. “I’m ready to atone my mistakes. I’ll do everything to make you happy. Just don’t leave me, okay? Tell me, what can I do to get your forgiveness?”Ava stared coldly at the man who had ruined her in her previous life. “Do you want my forgiveness? Then hand over everything to me, Dylan. I want you to feel the same agony I did.”

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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.”