My Youth Began With Him - Chapter 4834 - In The Remaining Lifetime (14)

Crossing the prehistoric times, Chen Changsheng bowed to Tongtianmen and became the most sturdy senior brother of the Intercepting Sect, awakening the reading system.

Read [Holy King], extract the god statue, and automatically upgrade it to the immortal way.

Read [Perfect], extract the self-indulgence method of his transformation, and automatically upgrade it to chaos and self-inflicted law.

Read [Star Change], extract the method of stars, and automatically upgrade Hongmeng Star Change.

…

Just like that, relying on reading from the heavens, Chen Changsheng became the first person to communicate with each other in the past and present.

- Description from novelbuddy

When Ye Qing Ran wakes up, she finds that she has transmigrated into a book. She has become the vain, domineering, and evil villain who dies a tragic death.

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- Description from novelbuddy

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.”