I Am The Young Master - Chapter 172 Second-Hand Goods

Aldric, a young man from a remote village who doesn’t know much about games is forced by his dorm mates to play the latest and most popular virtual reality game — Magician Online, a magic-themed game with a magnificent medieval world. Armed with curiosity, he played the game without serious intentions. However, unbeknownst to him, he actually awakened the most supreme talent in the game.

Ding! Congratulations, received 7 billion red envelopes!

Ding! Congratulations, you have received 50 million yuan.

Ding! Congratulations, you have won a Lamborghini Daniel.

Ding! Congratulations, you have obtained 51% of the shares of a listed company.

Ding! Congratulations, you have obtained a first-grade building from Tomson.

Ding! Congratulations, get the skill fighting king.

Ding! Congratulations, you have acquired the skill Tian Lai Singing Voice.

…… ……

Lin Fan: 7 billion red envelopes? When should I order?

Street reporter: How long can you earn 1 million?

Lin Fan:…

Street reporter: Why do you keep blinking?

Lin Fan: Didn’t you ask me how long it takes to earn 1 million?

PS: Welcome to read my book “Super Red Envelope Fairy Group” and “The Heavens Red Envelope Chat Group”.

Mu Sheng transmigrated into a male harem article, and became a member who was about to be included in the harem by the male lead.
In this article, the male protagonist fell off a cliff and met the old man with a white beard, and from then on he began to kill the Quartet and dominate the road. Of course, there are beauties everywhere you go.
The master of Taiyi sect, the young master of Tianji sect, the princess of the demon clan, the empress of the demon clan… any one of her identities is more prominent than her, the little junior sister of the outer sect.
Mu Sheng didn’t have any ambition to save the heroine, after knowing the bad news, Mu Sheng just wanted to run away overnight.
Later, the disciples of the Tianyan Sect found out that the junior sister from the outer sect who loved to practice swords the most no longer practiced swords, and volunteered to take care of Lingtian.

The lost ancient spiritual plants and the hard-to-serve high-level elixir filled the spiritual field in a mess.
Mu Sheng originally thought that he could avoid the plot in this way, and be her salty fish with peace of mind, but he didn’t expect that he could make a name for himself by farming any land.

Zhuang Yuyanxiang, the suzerain of Taiyi sect, has a car and a BMW, and his aura is obvious.
——”Give me Lingjiang Grass, and I will accept you as a personal disciple.”
Mu Sheng: “It’s good to be alone.”
Xia Yingying, the princess of the demon clan, stepped on the demon dragon, pampering and unrestrained.
—— “Please get out of here.”
Mu Sheng: “Okay, I will pay the travel expenses.”
Ye Xingyao, the young master of Tianjimen, was in a state of desperation, his white clothes stained with blood.
——”You save my life, and I will make a divination table for you and calculate the secrets of heaven.”
Mu Sheng: “I’m an atheist, I don’t believe in fate.”
…
She really just wants to be a salted fish, grow crops, make alchemy, and raise furry. She doesn’t want to face all the heroines!

Content tags: Xianxia Cultivation Wearing Books Upgrade Flow
Search keywords: Protagonist: Mu Sheng, warmth and sorrow ┃ Supporting role: ┃ Others:

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”