I Have a Manor in the Post-apocalyptic Era - Chapter 162 - Mental Forging Technique

Below the nine setting suns lies the remains of the Golden Crows.By chance, a young man arrives in the world of Journey to the West, attaining enlightenment using the bodies of nine Golden Crows, leading to a different journey.Summary for this book: “Living in the Journey to the West, I started off by roasting nine Golden Crows.”Yet another summary is, “My days of collecting bodies in the Journey to the West. When it comes to body collection, no one's better than me. Three hundred years of professional body collection experience, skilled at cooking braised meat, and never adds sugar in it.”

Luis, a poor 17-year-old boy, tries his luck at becoming an Awakener to change his fate. However, his dreams are shattered when he fails to awaken a Special Spirit and is instead saddled with a 5 million dollar debt by their planet's colonizers, the Flying Star Empire.His life seemed doomed—until a mysterious system suddenly appeared in his head: The Monster Transformation System. It gave him the power to transform into any monster or animal he had ever seen.From a cat to an eagle, even a horse, Luis begins to understand that his power may not come from Spirit... but from the ability to become any monster.

Claimed to be the greatest team in the history of the card film industry — “Mu Lei” is born. With even the elites of the academic world unable to decipher these cards’ structure, his powerful cards were able to unnerve even the federation, causing the greatest Card Creators and Card Fighters to grow frantic, triggering open battles and covert maneuvers among various interest groups — all behind the silhouette of Chen Mu. Although he was not the originator of the federation’s unrest, he was definitely the number one reason for continuously escalating it.

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.”