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Next chapter: Chapter 11
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... He didn't care about the maintenance of the car, and patiently coaxed Shi Yun who was crying without tears.

He was obviously crying, but his silent appearance hit a soft corner of Wei Zongying's heart for some reason. He didn't say a word of blame from the beginning to the end, and he took all the faults on himself, and everything was his fault.

After a while, he heard Shi Yun say, "I'm sorry."

Wei Congying looked down at her, raised his hand and gently wiped her sweaty fore ...

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“We need to go back and inform others of what just happened. Whatever happened has happened and can't be changed back. This involves the death of an ancient being. We won't be able to change it as it was a Nexus Event and TVA won't be able to control it. Loki, are you still at the throne?” John shouted.

Unsurprisingly, Loki appeared out of nowhere. TVA was responsible for all Nexus Events and Beings. And this was a huge Nexus event. The point of no return, just like the death of Christine in What if?

“You have commited quite the crime John. This crime according to the laws of TVA would have you pruned instantly, with no questions asked and no trial.” Loki said with a smile.

“It was not me who did this. It was him. Why am I being put in the tough spot?” John asked with a sharp tone.

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When a cinephile and an otaku/weeb travels through dimensions and gets a system which can only be described as overpowered but comes with restrictions. At first he was overjoyed with the system but soon realizes that he is in a very dangerous world where his life was at risk all the time.

(There will be no change in the canon until the New York War ends)

patreon.com/thelightedghost

You can read 240+ more chapters ahead and 3+ chapters everyday with the access to my patreon page. (670+ chapters already)

Disclaimer : I am not an economist so I might have done some mistakes in the economics section of the story. If you have suggestions to make it better you can leave in the comments.

Warning - The MC won't be OP from the start itself and will grow to a powerful character in due time. The starting feels a bit weird because I am totally new to writing a novel and English is my second language. I don't have an editor so the conversations and descriptions might be little stiff. I am trying to improve.

P.S. This story is based on Marvel universe

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Ye Xuan came from a normal but extremely wealthy family. Yet, one day, when he woke up, he realized that he had been transmigrated to a fantasy world.

He was prepared to train and embark on an adventure, but he quickly learned that he had actually become the young master of Thousand Realms, the biggest trade company.

His father even let him inherit more than trillions of spirit stones.

“Are you serious? I’m sick of being rich!” Ye Xuan complained.

Fortunately, he had awakened a system that would make him stronger by spending money.

With that, he used the Grade 9 Celestial Pill to feed his dogs.

He used the famous painting that contained the will of the Supreme Sword to start a fire.

He used the Five-elements Divine Talisman to clean his ass.

And yet, he still had much more to spend. He then decided to join a clan that no one had even heard of.

He spent thousands just to see the saintess of the clan smile.

He built a pill alchemy workshop and gave out high-grade celestial herbs for free, and yet, one of the disciples who had never made a single pill was actually talented and was able to create the high-grade celestial pills.

When he started a dueling competition, he bet a lot of his money on the weakest contestant.

However, that contestant had actually awoken the Ancient Holy Body during the fight and was able to fight 100 men on his own.

“You sure are my son. You are as talented as me when it comes to managing a business!” his father complimented.

“This man is so cool when he spends his money!” exclaimed the saintess.

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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.”