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... aturally, it was not the kind of liking between men and women, but it was a liking for talented people. She was eagerly seeking for rare talented people, so she must meet him in a worthy manner.


However, for Zhong Shan, at this moment, it was also an opportunity. Zhong Shan wanted to understand Great Luo Heavenly Dynasty. He wanted an absolutely unrestrained understanding. but relying on his Fifth Grade official position, it was far insufficient. What Zhong Shan needed at this time, wa ...

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Did I just get reincarnated to the old self and the old world? What the hell kind of reincarnation is this? And that too no system? Fine. I guess I will do things this time differently. But wait what is these two white bulbs inside my head that I can even internally see. Is that the system? Nope. It's better than I thought. Follow Aric has he gets access to two different universes, one based on magic and other based on technology. Now he can teleport to two different universes whenever he wishes. Hopping around seems fun!What to expect : * 1000 words per chapter at least with 4 5 chapters per week * No harem* Don't expect MC to be a genocidal maniac but he will be ambitious.

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First, give your bros a good time!

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But now that he actually encountered this strange situation himself, he could only feel an extremely ball-breaking alarm, shocked grief, and frightened anger. **** your mom! Ah, ****! **** it!

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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.”