My Cultivation System - Chapter 285: Condition

Inescapable fate ends here. Only Gilded Ashes remain.[FREE 50 CHAPTERS BEFORE LOCK]When shadows devour his home, Raizen is left with nothing but grief - and a vow to hunt down and kill every Nyx. At his side stands Hikari, a mysterious girl with no past but a dark fate she cannot escape.From the ashes of loss to The Underworks, to the halls of Neoshima's Lotus Academy - assassins, wardens, hidden enemies, unexpected traitors and all sorts of rivals will test them at every step. Secrets stir, powers awaken, and the line between hope and despair blurs, making them wonder what being “human” truly means. As the darkness spreads, one truth remains:The real battle has only just begun.

“Crobat I choose you” said KogaStrength : Elite levelAs our new Ash/Oliver saw this he is feeling nostalgicNow that he thinks about it should he choose Pikachu or Charmander?************This is a translation of Pokemon : Wisdom series

These days, could one really time-travel just by dreaming? And to become a silly princess at that. Well, marrying a domineering man wasn't too bad. His taking a concubine wasn't the end of the world either. But why was she forbidden from liking anything except him? That was just too domineering! She had to escape! Ah, but upon escaping, she realized he was a half-demon who didn't understand love... and, moreover, a half-demon who had a three-lives connection with her...

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.”