My First Love Died, Now My Step Uncle Wants Me - Chapter 151: Forget About Sleeping

The latest offering from the pen of the creator of “My Military Branches Can Evolve Infinitely”, Bimo Zhijian.---------------------------------------------The world has experienced a radical transformation. Source Qi has awakened and the apocalypse has descended.This is a catastrophe and also the beginning of a new epoch.Tang Yu somehow obtained a domain system, and while summoning warriors, producing equipment, developing his domain, drafting rules...as he looked back, he discovered that he was already standing at the apex of the era.

Absurd! Reincarnating as a newborn in a demon-infested world, the overturning system arrived 30 years early.[At 30, after enduring endless hardships, you have achieved nothing and remain a loner. Reward: Late Bloomer (Talent) - Effect: The older your bones, the faster you cultivate.][Overturning mission: Defeat Chen Yuan at the sixth level of the Guiyuan Realm within a year. Reward: Swordsmanship entry-level]One-year-old Chen Yi looked at the content on the panel, then down at his small arms and legs, falling into deep thought.'Damn! This system definitely arrived too early!''I'm only a year old, what good is the Late Bloomer talent now?''And Chen Yuan of the Guiyuan Realm...'...Years later, war reports came from the frontlines.'The Tianyuan Continent’s top ten martial arts prodigy, Champion Marquis of the Wei Dynasty, the Amorous Young Master, Sword Saint Chen Yi, slaughtered 100,000 demons on the battlefield of Taizhou Mountain to celebrate for the human race!'However, Chen Yi looked at the battlefield flowing with rivers of blood and shook his head:'I’ve been making overturn since I was one, experiencing countless life and death situations to achieve my current cultivation level. It’s not surprising you can’t resist!'Those 'life and death' crises were terrifyingly daunting.The big brother at one year old, childhood sweetheart at five, senior brother at ten, princess at a tender age...Who understands my hardships?PS: Infant stream, system-arriving-early stream, light-hearted, humorous, passionate.PPS: Also known as 'Starting the Overturn as an Infant', 'Reborn as an Infant, What an Overturn! ', 'Talking is Useless, It's Time to Fight.'

Due to her family's worsening financial situation and the need to pay off her late father's debts, Isabella Quinn was forced to agree to a marriage proposal offered by Juliana Brown, to marry her son, Hunter William Brown, who had disabilities including paralysis and impotence.At that time, she had a boyfriend, Joe Fernando. However, she convinced Joe that the marriage was only temporary and that one day they would be together again.But when the marriage took place, Isabella was shocked to discover that Hunter was not as afflicted as she had thought.This fact left her feeling trapped, confused, and lacking the courage to tell either Joe or Juliana.What did she find out? Was it something that could make her fall in love with Hunter? Or the opposite? And what about Joe, who remained loyal while waiting for 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.”