HP: A Magical Journey - Chapter 335: Carnage

The Earth mutated and an entire city disappeared from its original world! Su Yi arrived in the Different World strangely with the whole city, where demons ran amok, dynasty hegemony. There was no peace of modern civilization, only the law of jungle! Fortunately, his phone also changed... Gods, demons, monsters, Buddhas, fairies, etc., were all pulled into his mobile phone for his use! I am the king of demons, and I am the Lord of gods!

Blurp:

What kind of husband punishes his wife by spanking her ass? An insane and sadistic husband!

“How long are you going to punish me?!”

“I’m done with your punishment a while ago.”

Qiao Anxia jerked in a fury and immediately rose to her feet while tidying up her one-piece dress.

Her hands touched her buttocks without realizing it, feeling the heat from the man’s punishment. She didn’t know if this burning feeling was from Richard’s unpainful spanking or for another reason...

How she wished she could kill this man!

The strangest fate, the most exciting mind games, the cruelest survival battle, the craziest fantasy, the most bizarre truth… The first is here to battle for another ten years!

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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.”