Ancient Godly Monarch - Chapter 2014 - Invincible

Lu Lingxi died.

As a child born by his parents through precise genetic matching, for eighteen years of his life, he lived entirely for his brother, who had leukaemia. He was his brother’s shadow, a “medicine reserve bank” for his brother’s treatment needs.

Umbilical cord blood, stem cells, bone marrow… whenever his brother needed it, he would have no choice but to quietly lie on the operating table.

Until the last time, when his brother needed a kidney and he never came off the operating table.

When he opened his eyes again, Lu Lingxi became a teenager with the same name Lu Lingxi.

Freed from the shackles of his fate, he possesses the mysterious ability to communicate with plants.

Raising flowers, gardening and running a farm, Lu Lingxi begins a very different life!

A phoenix is a creature of legends, a wonder of the world, an imagery of life and destruction. This fabled creature signifies the rise of a hero in a virtual world where battles occur for the sake of honor and glory!

[Congratulations to the host for binding the Shenhao check-in system. 】

Sign in and check in to get rewards!

[Successfully signed in on time and obtained one billion assets. 】

[Sign in successfully, get the handsome face of the exiled fairy. 】

[Successfully checked in at Dongshan Villa, and obtained the ownership of Dongshan Villa. 】

…

Ever since the sign-in and clock-in system was bound, Chen Yun was either checking in or on the way to clock in.

From then on, amidst the wild flowers and the worship of the heroes, a brilliant god rose up.

In the world, I am the only one who has the name of a god!

(No vulgar routines, daily funny flow, welcome to watch)

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- Description from novelbuddy

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.”