MTL - Mercenaries and Adventurers - v4 Chapter 212 , the ending of pulling

In the Sky Sword Continent there are thousands of sects and strong cultivators as common as trees. In order to prevent his older sister from being forcefully married off, Lu Xuan had no choice to but to unceasingly cultivate and enter a sect to ask for a favor. By chance, a sword-shaped crystal of mysterious origins entered into Lu Xuan’s body, containing countless top-class martial skills, powerful martial arts, and everything you could wish for! A martial legend starts here…

A magical ring and a mighty spirit inside the ring, coupled with a genius who lost his cultivation and got named worthless trash. That’s Xiao Yan, the poor genius. You think Xiao Yan got it bad? Well, you clearly have not met Jing Yan.

Jing Yan was once the shining star of the whole East City. However, his cultivation dropped because of the Universal Ring that was left to him by his dead grandfather. Without anything but the Universal Ring, he will once more rise towards the top and beyond!

He is Jing Yan, The Universal Sword God.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”