Genius Archer's Streaming - Chapter 215Season 3: . Fake Journey (2)

What is luck? Walk to pick up money? Buying a lottery ticket will win the jackpot?

Qin Yun picked up a copper coin and activated the wealth luck system.

“The balance has reached 10,000, and you can open a first-level fortune-gathering array every month. To open a second-level wealth-gathering array, you need a balance of 1 million…”

(The group has been established, group number: 614799090, interested book friends can join and discuss the plot together.)

When Xia Qingyi wakes up and finds herself in a hospital without any memories of her past, what else can she do other than to approach the person who had saved her?

Raidorl Zain was born and raised as the second prince of the Kingdom of Zain.

Raidorl lived a peaciful life surrounded by his kind elder brother and loyal vassals, however his fate completely changed drastically during his coming-of-age ceremony when he was chosen to be the holder of “Dáinsleif “, the excalibur (sacred sword) of the royal house.

His brother the first prince started to hate him as an enemy that threatened his claim to the throne, his vassals and even his own fiancée abandoned him and he was banished to a town in develpment at the borders alone.

Since then, Raidorl has struggled to survive at the borders that were a monster’s domain, gaining the trust of those around him, he found a new happiness with his friends in that poor and harsh life.

However… his fate change once again when the neighboring Arsline Empire started to invade the Kingdom of Zain.

Forced by his brother to fight to protect the kingdom from the Empire’s invasion, Raidorl decides to plot a rebellion against the overly selfish demands of all those people that banished him.

When the exiled prince takes the sacred sword on his hand, the curtains of a new heroic legend will open!

The sacred sword legend that started with “Rebellion”, begins here!

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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.”