Tranxending Vision - Chapter 9

Lu Liangwei wakes up to find herself transmigrated as a supporting character in the novel she had been reading a few days ago. According to the novel, this character has everything—beauty, wealth, status—except brains. Before Liangwei had taken over, she even went as far as to hang herself for the male protagonist that she loved: the Crown Prince as well as her sister's lover. Now that she has become a "brand new" person, it is time for her to turn her life around with charm and wit! She will get everyone to fall in love with her, even the Crown Prince's uncle—the Emperor! Who needs a prince when you can become the Empress herself?

In the new era of Blue Star Martial Arts, Demons invaded, and humankind was embroiled in a bitter struggles.Chu Feng transmigrated and arrived on the scene. Armed with the ways of being an overachiever, all he wanted was to once again show the spirit of a die-hard corporate slave and carve out his own piece of the world!No sooner had he been reborn than he was smeared with demons all over his face, but no worries, his golden finger had arrived!He could draw upon the Life Force of slain Demons to transform into Attribute Points, becoming stronger with limitless additions!“What to do when there are no more Attribute Points available?”“Hey, look over there, a lone Demon…”“Sneak up from behind, grab its head, just twist like this! Hey, Attribute Points secured!”…“In this world, having great strength means having everything!”“In my life, with such heaven-defying Martial Arts Talent, do you think I can become a Martial God?”“The path to the Martial God has ended; it's become nothing but old legends? Ha, the path I walk will be the new path of the Martial God!”…This book is also known as “Demons, I Need You to Help Me Cultivate!” “So Easy to Learn, I Think This Move is Really Simple” “Run Fast, the people at the front are haunted” “This Man is More Demonic Than the Demons Themselves!”

In the post-apocalyptic age, men were damned.

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.”