The Man Picked Up By the Gods (Reboot) - Chapter 301Chapter Chapter - Send-Off (1/3)

When a soul from twenty years later is reborn in a Chinese-American teenager, the world is different. In the face of this turbulent era, Guo Shouyun’s ambitions burst out like never before. Internet, war, subprime mortgage crisis, European debt crisis, he seized all the opportunities to create wealth for himself, and after 20 years of painstaking efforts, he created the largest capital empire in the 21st century!

Conspiracy theorists: The five consortiums of Guo, Rockefeller, Morgan, DuPont, and Mellon controlled the United States.

Time Magazine: Son of God, the greatest capitalist of the 21st century!

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Following “Empire of the Far East”, “Treasure Eye” and “Taoyuan Villa”, this is the fourth novel by Dongren. Welcome to pay attention!

- Description from novelbuddy

Tired of the schemes and strifes of city life, Bei Feng finally returned to his hometown in the countryside

While picking asters ‘neath the Eastern fence;

My gaze upon the Southern mountain rests;

Rearing a few chickens and ducks, I shall lead a simple and leisurely life!

However, who would have thought that fate would play a huge joke on Bei Feng? All kinds of magical items and beings of the Myriad Worlds could actually be fished out of the Ancient Well in his yard!

Even a chicken reeled out of the well ended up chasing Bei Feng all over the yard and beating him black and blue! Speechless and aggrieved, he asked the Heavens: if, that day, he’d fished out a Dragon instead of a chicken, what would’ve happened to him!

- Description from Novelupdates

Su Wen transmigrated and became the Prime Minister’s son, possessing both power and money.

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.”