The Path of Survivor begins with obtaining titles - Chapter 563 - 289: Wind Thunder Escape_2

With the strongest experts from the 33 Skies, the Human Emperor, Lin Ming and his opponent, the Abyssal Demon King were embroiled in a final battle. It ended with the Human Emperor destroying the Abyssal World and killing the Abyssal Demon King. By then, a godly artifact, the mysterious purple card that had previously sealed the Abyssal Demon King, had long disappeared into the space-time vortex and tunneled through infinite space-time, with a loved one of Lin Ming accompanying it.

In the vast wilderness, where martial arts was still slowly growing in its infancy, several peerless masters tried to find their path in the world of martial arts.

A young adult named Yi Yun from modern Earth had unwittingly stumbled into such a world and began that journey with a purple card of unknown origin.

It’s a magnificent yet unknown true martial art world. This is the story of a normal young adult turning into a legendary peerless expert.

“Can I tell you a secret, sister?” Tang BaoBao whispered to Xiao Hanrui.

“What is it!”

“I have found a superstar girlfriend.”

Xiao Hanrui exclaimed “Female Superstar! What is going on in your head?”

” Am I beautiful? Do I look good? Are my legs long?”

“Do you want to die? Where did you get the courage to even find a superstar girlfriend?”

- Description from Novelupdates

In the City of Crime, one law stands above them all: Only the strongest can live.

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.”