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... Holy Spirit Jiangqiao is really too lazy to do it, anyway, the Holy Spirit game does not promote field PK, most of the equipment is copied.

Of course the more reason is ... the balance of the ghost game of the Holy Spirit is really impossible.

With the existence of players at the level of Zhao Mingwei, he can always lead ordinary players by two, not three versions. This is useless even if Jiangqiao weakens the profession of Qiqi.

It's not that the occupation is too strong, b ...

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The God of Magic stopped blessing his believers.

The Tower of Magic, where the mages gathered and worshiped him was destroyed.

Magic Fell.

The surviving Mages were looked down upon by the rest of the world.

Normal Mages, that is.

The Mages from the Strongest Magic Family, the Vesta Family, were an exception.

For 5000 years, the Vesta Family continued to produce exceptional Mages that were strong enough to resist other forces which came after their family heritage and treasures even without the Blessing of the God of Magic.

Now, however, the Vesta Family found themselves in a difficult situation where they didn’t have a single capable heir.

That was until, Christopher Davis, an underworld Gang Leader, transmigrates into the body of Vaan Astra Vesta, a well-known pushover and the ‘waste’ of the Vesta Family.

Christopher, now Vaan, soon realized that he could see otherworldly magic spirits with knowledge so vast that the Magic books that the Vesta Family treasured for 5000 years were nothing in comparison.

That, combined with Vaan’s own God-like Talent,

The ‘Hope’ was born.

A prodigy strong enough to not only protect the Vesta Family and its treasures,

A prodigy who will restore Magic to its former glory was born.

“Haa!? Who da fuck said a Mage can’t use fists!? That crab-like face of yours, I’ll punch it till it is deformed into something better looking!”

And of course, Christopher’s gangster-like tendencies won’t just disappear.

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An otherworldly cultivator finds himself in the body of a young Naruto, shortly after he finishes his academy days.With only fragmented memories of this new world, he finds himself in. The cultivator will make full use of his old knowledge to not only survive but reach new heights.Everyone who tries to get in his way will soon find how ruthless this old soul can be.A.N - Please read this:- The characters In the story will be a bit older than in canon. They will start at fifteen after graduating from the academy and will be around eighteen after the Shippuden time skip.- There will be Harem. I'm not sure how big yet, but probably not very big.- There will be a lot of violence and blood, so be warned.- There will be some occasional smut scene later on in the story.- During the beginning, the story is going to follow canon events quite closely, but this will change more and more as the story progresses and Naruto's actions and decisions start to have consequences.The upload rate is currently at 6 chapters per week, I may increase it in the future if I have more time. I do not have specific days or times for the uploads because my full-time job has an erratic schedule so I upload whenever I have the time. But you can expect 6 new chapters by the end of the week. Sorry for the inconvenience, I hope my readers understand.

I Can Copy CursesChapter 433 . A Surprise Attack on Humans? Or not
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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.”