Harry Potter : Reincarnated as The Greatest Wizard - Chapter 119 - Sparring

On a dark night, drunkard Su Qingbai was pulled into an alley, and a few months later, he had a big belly.

Su Qingbai couldn’t help mourning that his father had been dismissed from officialdom. It was difficult for him to support himself and a little brat.

However, it’s not over yet…

Another dark night, Su Qingbai was pulled into an alley again…

- Description from Novelupdates

In a tyrannical world, what is evil? What is benevolence? All living creatures are brutal. Passing through the heaven road to find one’s purpose in life. Struggles to be stronger is not an easy path. The whole journey thistles and thorns, one blade chops open a path, I alone will be supreme!

- Description from Novelupdates

220 years ago, in the legendary Dragon Demon War, Hero Azell ended the war by killing the evil Dragon Demon race’s King Atein. He was able to save the population, but as a consequence, he was cursed. While he was dying, the high magician suggested a gamble that might save his life.

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.”