The Sacred Land Is Going Bankrupt, I Invented a Mobile Phone! - Chapter 7: Network Authentication! Anti-counterfeiting Measures!

Crossing to a garbage star in the interstellar age, Ji Yu is so poor that she is about to plow the soil and eat it, but… the soil is poisonous and can’t be eaten… There is no way, she can only lower her body to pick up the garbage, sell it and sell it. of……

For example, no one wants such beautiful grass seeds. Pick up a bead and sell it online.

But as soon as I posted it on the Internet, someone made a negative comment: “All the grass seeds and fruits are sold. Are you crazy to think about money?”

A few days later, the man slammed the wall in regret: “Kneel and beg you to sell me one grass seed and fruit, only one! One is fine.”

Ji You said coldly: “Not for sale!”

For another example, these shattered stones on the street are so shiny that nobody wants them. Pick them up, polish them into bracelets, and sell them on the Internet.

The crowd made nasty words: “Broken rocks are all sold, haven’t you seen the money?”

A few days later, everyone wept bitterly and said, “I have no eyes, I am clumsy, such a beautiful and beautiful stone, please beg me for one.”

Ji You said, “It’s gone.”

- Description from novelbuddy

An acid rain, a biohazard.

A new folder, a global arsenal.

As long as Tang Zheng collects enough gold, he can buy any weapon.

This is a story about a military fan who acquires an arsenal of weapons, fights zombies in the last days, saves good people and eliminates bad people.

…………

Book Friends Penguin Group (746860067)

Key words of the novel: Commander of the Last Days has no pop-up window, Commander of the Last Days txt complete works download, Commander of the Last Days latest chapter reading

- Description from novelbuddy

Song Shi came to an immortal world where demons and monsters were rampant. He thought he was going to take a trepidatious road to immortality, but ended up awakening to a death-defying system, gaining strength from death and getting stronger every time he died.

The whole style took a sudden change. Other people cultivated to seek immortality, but he was already immortal, and could only seek immortality by having himself killed in various ways, either by killing himself or by letting people kill him.

“You were killed 10 times by the Yin spirit, awakening the spiritual root of fire!”

“You were killed 10 times by the zombie, awakening the innate divine power!”

“You were killed 10 times for excess cultivation, awakening the Daoist heart!”

“You were killed by a formation, formation level +1!”

“You were killed by an alchemy explosion, +1 alchemy level!”

Pure Yang Spiritual Body, Nine Yang Divine Body, Sun Sacred Body; Vajra Spiritual Body, Golden Divine Body, Draconic Sacred Body; Psychic Sword Body, Innate Dao Body; Formation Master, Alchemy Master...

His cultivation was a fun journey, and he kept finding ways to kill himself on his way to the top of the immortal path...

Years later, the world rumor had it that once Song Shi died, the immortals were terrified, the demons trembled, and ten thousand Buddhas retreated!

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.”