The Reversal of a Son-in-law - Chapter 138 Speak Like A Human (1)

After death, Lu Chen becomes an interstellar meteorite. Carrying his longing for his family and Earth, he embarks on a journey through the universe!He sees light in the darkness, witnesses miracles in desolation, and through interactions with numerous magical biological and celestial civilizations, he continuously absorbs interstellar matter, gradually evolving from a small meteorite into a starstone, asteroid, planet, and finally a star.

[You are now the Editor] The administrator said in a proud tone

“Okay... so what exactly are my duties as the Editor, I doubt I have to review people's work”

[That's the simple part, you edit]

“What?... I just edit, what does that even mean”

[That is up to you to figure out]

...

What do you do when you are given phenomenal power and authority over what is possibly, all of creation. Armed with a literal omniscient being as a servant.

Facing an unknown event prophesized to possibly end all life. Follow as David uses his newfound power and authority to survive and also save as many people as he can.

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When Han Kain woke up, he and several other people were inside a mysterious hotel with different rules and different expectations.Going into each hotel room threw them into other worlds and scenarios where they must brace death at times to escape or lift the curse of the individual rooms for a chance to bring everyone that died during the process back to life.Using their blessings that were given at the time of entry, they have to weave their way through the rooms while sometimes sacrificing themselves for a higher likelihood of success.* Very little horror; more of a thriller

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.”