Himekishi ga Classmate Isekai Cheat de Dorei ka Harem - Chapter 41Volume 2 .1

A madman's journey up the towers.These are the ironclad rules of the Three Towers Game in the eyes of others:1: Do not create killings in the Tower of Desire. The Tower of Desire is a tower full of love; please climb it with love.2: Killing is the only pass for the Slaughter Tower. All creatures in the Slaughter Tower are enemies of humanity; do not try to communicate with the monsters.3: Stay away from the Deceit Tower, and happiness will be abundant.These are the ironclad rules of the Three Towers Game in the eyes of Wen Xishu:1: The Tower of Desire is full of sheep that won't kill.2: The monsters in the Slaughter Tower are powerful and reliable, truly a camp of righteous fathers.3: I absolutely love the Deceit Tower.

“When I left you, it wasn’t because I was materialistic.”

“I know.”

“He doesn’t love me. I already broke up with him.”

“I know.”

“You knew? I didn’t know you were still so concerned about me…”

“I know because he and I are now a couple.”

This is a story about how a poor loser turned into a tall, handsome and rich guy and snatched his ex-girlfriend’s current boyfriend away.

- Description from Novelupdates

“Here's what happened. I was in a desperate situation when I accidentally encountered a dragon. It told me I was a martial arts prodigy and said it would teach me the Dao of Immortality…” “This excuse for skipping class and cultivating in secret… is that seriously the reason?” “I don’t care whether it’s human or not, what matters is that the dragon said: ‘If you want to become strong, kneel and call me Master.’”

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.”