The Incubus System - Chapter 728: Because of Your Incubus Blood

The overhead of the Tang Dynasty, the story of capturing the spirits.

“The stones on the other mountains are hard enough to carve and polish jade”.

To Prince Cheng, Lin Chengyou, Teng Yuyi is the piece of “jade” that he can not capture.

The proud son of the heavens is on the road to chase his wife to death.

- Description from Novelupdates

Blue Star has entered the extraordinary era, everything is evolving, and monsters are rampant.

Humans awaken their star souls in evolution to fight against raging monsters.

Zhou Xuan, who was doing odd jobs in the Demon Town Tower, accidentally awakened to an unscientific sign-in system.

Sign in on the ancient desolate beast and gain the power of the wild. Sign in on the weed spirit, and the star soul evolves into the nine-leaf sword grass.

The thousand-year black turtle, the ten thousand-year sea king, the immortal true phoenix, and the sky-swallowing dragon have all become the targets of his registration.

There are countless monsters in the Demon Suppressing Tower, Zhou Xuan signed in silently, and if he was not careful, he would be invincible.

- 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.”