Eternal Cultivation of Alchemy - Chapter 1816 Coming to an End

The life of the underworld was something Ashley had dreamed of escaping all her life. Born as a bastard from an affair between an underworld kingpin and a prostitute, Ashley was meant to die even before she was born. The only reason she survived was that her father thought she was a boy.From a young age, she understood that if she wanted to survive in this world of violence—on top of her father’s wife and daughter’s schemes—she had to be useful.So, she made herself a promise: one day, she would escape this world.Ashley almost succeeded… until her father found her again and thrust her into a marriage of convenience with his rival, Dominion, in his beloved daughter’s place.Everyone in the underworld knew Dominion.They were cruel, organized, and simply spawns of evil. And the man who stood above that power, Luciano, was said to be downright diabolical. Just their name alone could make anyone tremble.And this organization was where Ashley now had to survive.To make matters worse, the marriage also came with a child — Luciano’s mute heir.Forced to become the wife of one of the most violent and powerful underworld organizations, and the mother of its future leader, Ashley made a vow.“No matter what, I’ll escape this place!”But she would soon realize it wouldn’t be as simple as that. Not when the feared members of Dominion clung to her feet, begging,“Madam, don’t go!”And when the mute stepson finally spoke, “Mommy, if you’re leaving, please take me with you.”Finally, her diabolical, obsessive, and utterly territorial husband said,“I’ve packed our things. Where should we go?”

Gu Zuo: Are you sick?

Gongyi Tianheng: You have medicine?

Gu Zuo: You’re sick!

Gongyi Tianheng: If I say I’m sick, can you cure me?

Gu Zuo: If I say I have medicine, would you want it?

Gongyi Tianheng: However much you have is how much I want.

Gu Zuo: However much you want is how much I have.

Gongyi Tianheng: Then bring it all out.

Gu Zuo: …

Simply speaking, a scaredy-cat shou transmigrated and had to think of a way to survive. He had a golden finger called Medicine Refining System, but unfortunately, he didn’t have the ingredients needed to refine medicine and level up.

A great young master to an empire’s preeminent clan had a super high IQ, but his potential for cultivation was low. Unfortunately, pill refiners were too hard to develop, and weren’t restricted to his personal service. But he could acquire plenty of ingredients.

Two people, one was sick and one had medicine. Therefore, the one who was sick kept the one who had medicine, and everyone was happy.

Louie became a mythical dragon that was capable of traveling between Earth and the Otherworld at will.

From this point on, the number of races in the Otherworld became more plentiful. His territory was orderly and clean, with incredible cuisine, countless novelties, and civilization and philosophy ahead of the whole world.

On Earth, his existence caused the rebirth of magic and mythology, allowing him to become the only God.

“I am the Golden King, the Giver of Life, the Champion of Magic, the Weaver of Dreams, the Guardian of the World, the Master of Time. Let mortals bow down before me and look up! Let the Gods tremble in fear before me!”

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.”