Release That Witch - Chapter 1399: The Bloody Battle in the Mountains 3

[No heroine, no emotional line, no ambiguity, a lot of private settings, a comprehensive world view, I am an organization. 】

[There is a story about an undercover police officer with real wine, there is a possibility of death for the red party, and both Bourbon and Scotland are real wine]

“Name.”

“Osamu Dazai.”

“gender.”

“A man without a doubt.”

“age.”

“14.”

“The code name of the Black Organization.”

“Cahor.”

“Why did you join the Black Organization?”

“Well, because I’m the adopted son of that gentleman.”

[This article is also known as Osamu Dazai of COS. I recognized a thief as a father in the Conan crew. I am not disqualified in this world. I am full of fighting skills. I appeared in Japan the next second at the comic exhibition and became a three-year-old slaughter]

[There will be other vests. ][The elegant party and the gangsters stay away from me][Writing to play, don’t gangster]

- Description from novelbuddy

Joseph Knox, one of the most prolific and well-known serial killers on the planet.A person considered so demented and manic that even trying to reason with him was believed to be a waste of time. A man so far gone that he seemingly didn't deserve any pity even on his deathbed.So why? Why would a man like him receive a second chance? And why did the world around him seem so familiar?Disclaimer: AU when it comes to some parts of Madara's plan(I'll try to make it make sense at least), and aliens don't exist in this world

When a person dies, they either die light as a feather (aka unimportant) or heavy as Mt. Tai (aka very important).

(Immortal Cultivation+Meeting a Perfect Match+Shura Field+Invincible Flow+Upgrade Flow+Playing the Pig and Eating the Tiger)—What is cultivation? When I think back to the past, cultivation was, as a baby, kicking my legs over and over again—kicking on the bed, kicking on the ground, kicking every single day. Cultivation was, as I grew older, swinging my sword again and again—slashing here, cutting there. Cultivation became, as I matured, the repeated harmony of yin and yang—busy tonight, and busy again tomorrow night. … My name is Xu Ming. I have never cared about the stipends given to me by those sect masters, noble ladies, or princesses.I said to her, “Can you give me a room closer to yours? I need to report my work to you at any moment.” Even if I accomplish nothing every day, I just want to watch how she cultivates. I…