Longevity Martial Arts: Grinding Experience in the Chaotic World - Chapter 58 Great Cold

I was playing a boring game where you don’t level up no matter what you do, there’s no event happening and it was even FREE on *** store. I had an argument on relationship stuff, was angry and decided to destroy the village in a game, then a notification pop-up…

-Your karma has increased by 10.

-You are now at level 2.

Graphics of the game changed. Acquired magic. Saved a village girl that was chased by bandits. Gained a cultist.

It seems the events are starting to take place. Lets see what happens…

Yan Heng never thought that he would become a stray dog ​​with disabled legs. No one wanted to look at him, even the woman he loved avoided him. Jiang Wanying, who he used as a stand-in, appeared in front of him in a wheelchair.

She took him to see a doctor and brought him home. She was his salvation and the only warmth in his dark memory.

But her disability and face injury were all because of him.

——When she was pushed to the cliff, he chose another woman without hesitation.
Fortunately, she lost her memory at this moment, and everything can be salvaged.
Note: Yan Heng is not a male protagonist.

Content Labels: Rebirth Face Slap System Modern Overhead
Search keywords: Protagonist: Jiang Wanying ┃ Supporting role: “I am a salted fish after dressing as a wise woman [Quick Cross]” ┃ Others: Finish the text search column~
One-sentence introduction: a surrogate female supporting role, raising a dog to debut
Intention: self-improvement, great virtue

- Description from novelbuddy

Three years ago, to defeat the Demon God who was trying to destroy this world, thirteen Braves were summoned from another world. Each of them had varied ages and gender. Each of them was bestowed with cheat like powers not normal in this world.

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.”