SPELLCRAFT: Reincarnation Of A Magic Scholar - Chapter 35

The top student from the Agricultural University, Qiao Mu, was digging in the experimental field when her hoe struck through to the godforsaken Tupo Village.No money, no rice, no tall, rich, and handsome guy, the aunts and the older female cousins pecked at her every day, making her meals less than satisfying with constant bread rolls, leaving her so hungry she felt faint.Luckily, the Heavens took pity and rewarded her with a tall and handsome man, who was enthusiastic and bold. His debut move was to climb straight into bed, sparking rampant gossip in the village: that Qiao girl, the third daughter, is nothing but trouble at such a young age, shamelessly bringing some wild man into her boudoir to fool around – absolutely shameless!Muniang looked to the sky and bellowed, “Alpacas! You think I'm Hello Kitty when I don't show my claws?”Make a fortune, become rich, fight off the scum, raise a husband – life became increasingly lush.

“I'm a fox girl, Master!”

Leveling up is not tedious if you have adorable girls by your side!

Leon started his second life with a challenging and callous test to receive a system, only to begin his first steps in another world with an adorable fox girl by his side.

How would these two start their journey, and who else will join them? What will Leon achieve in a different world? He may find more than just new happiness.

Wang Jin found a beautiful drunk mixed-race boy on the side of the road. He looked pretty at night and couldn’t help bringing him home and sleeping with him. When he woke up the next day, he found out that the beauty was a minor.

This is the story of two people who met by chance, their lives turning from narcissism and selfishness to falling in love with each other’s trivialities.

- 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.”