MTL - Am I A Superman? - Chapter 311 Vandal Savage

Lin Feng traversed to the Saier Universe. This universe does not have the Saier robots from his previous life; instead, the hierarchy is somewhat similar to Pokémon.The bosses of various planets from his previous life have become rare and powerful Quasi-God elves.And those elves without a clan but with high abilities have become the legendary god-level elves.The Trainer profession has risen abruptly, and powerful trainers have become the rulers of a galaxy!Lin Feng embarks on the path to becoming stronger, aiming to stand at the pinnacle of the universe!When receiving his initial elf, the golden finger officially comes online!【Ding. Congratulations to the host for obtaining the level-one god “Primordial Spirit of Enlightenment”!】Lin Feng: “Goodness, starting with a top-tier companion, I’m invincible from the get-go!”(Even those who haven’t played can enjoy reading this)

Cheng Ling, the descendant of modern martial arts, traveled to the ancient times of war, and took his family to escape from the famine, farming, practicing medicine, and doing business…

Working hard for tomorrow, only to get a place to live in this strange era after the world is stable, to stand up with dignity, instead of kneeling and begging for life.

But who knew that disguising as a man was so successful that the new dynasty left her good name everywhere.

Young Master Hou’s Mansion: Young Master Cheng is very talented, and what he said casually was the rule of the world. I must recommend him to the prince.

Guozijian sacrifice wine: Cheng Xiaoyou has a splendid beauty in his chest, and the day when the imperial examination resumes, it must be the time when he will become famous. If he can’t win the top spot, the old man will slam into a pillar to tell the sky.

Miss Xiangfu: Cheng Shenyi is a prodigy, but he has a noble character and is not interested in fame and fortune. I respect him and love him, even if I have no relationship with him, I should ask the prince’s cousin to give him a birth.

Ten Miles of Spring Breeze Hua Kui Lady: Except for the three feet of snow on your body, who in the world is matched with white clothes? In that court, were they okay with you?

With a sigh, only remote mail.

…

And the prince, who was always mentioned in passing, intentionally or unintentionally, had already quietly raised his chin.

Prince: My brother, my confidant, what do you say?

Cheng Ling:  …

- Description from novelbuddy

Marauders shot Yuan in the head and buried him in a ditch. They thought it would be enough to put him down. They were wrong.Rising from the dead by the will of the Gun, demigod of revenge and firearms, Yuan only has one goal in mind: track down his murderers across the Unmade World and slaughter every last one of them. With the bullet-core stuck in his skull marking him as a Gunsoul, he can finally teach these arrogant cultivators a lesson they’ll never forget.But revenge isn’t so easy to claim. To carve out a path through the wasteland, Yuan will have to face power-hungry sects, nuclear cultivators, and weapon-gods. Let them come. No one will bury him again.He’ll give them all a taste of Bullet Hell.

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.”