Supremely Talented Tyrant - Chapter 1750 - 1951: A Chance Encounter with Wang Shuangshuang

At the moment when he was about to be buried alive by the villagers, he blew himself up… no, he saved himself successfully.

He just wants to live and die in this era, but… that woman is too crazy.

…

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- Description from novelbuddy

In a world steeped in tradition and shadowed by secrets, a young girl’s life is torn apart when her family is destroyed, and her heritage stolen. Her father, in his final act, seals away a legendary power and treasure, leaving her with nothing but cryptic clues and a burning desire for vengeance.With a blade in her hand and rage in her heart, she embarks on a perilous journey, unraveling the dark conspiracies that surround her family's legacy. As she faces deadly foes and unearths long-buried truths, she must decide whether to unlock the immense power her father protected—or let it remain hidden.Her path is one of blood, betrayal, and redemption. Will she rise above the chaos, or will the weight of revenge consume her? Witness the making of a legend in this gripping tale of sacrifice and retribution.

Ethan transmigrated from earth to a post apocalyptic martial world with a system.His system has only one function: Double the attribute every day. Watch him rising in the universe with a pace faster than the speed of light.

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.”