Live Streaming: Great Adventure in the Wilderness - Chapter 935 - 931 Within Reach

Endless sky and infinite space, the cosmos isn’t some paradise waiting to be found, it is full of darkness and danger, death and terror of the great unknown. However, for that glittering swath of blue, we have no fear! For the longevity of men, we have no regrets! Nothing shall stand in our way because it is finally our time, our age! The age of cosmos exploration!

Venshiro, a young ronin bound to the Black Vein Blade, is hunted by clans who would kill for the curse he carries. Every time he draws the sword, it takes something from him—his memories, his soul. But the blade remembers everything.And now, it wants more.

I reincarnated with e*otic game skills, but this is apparently an apocalyptic dark fantasy. I can’t die, so I tried to save the world with e*otic game skills… “Saint! Save us!!” “Saint! Save us!!!” People keep calling me a saint.

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.”