Building a Gaming Empire From Scratch - Chapter 1338

Liu Fang, a manager, died suddenly at work due to being too diligent.
She thought that she would turn into a wisp of dust and dissipate after her death, but she never imagined that – the new century, the new underworld, even if she became a soul, she would still be a worker!

Liu Fang has become a newcomer to the underworld Quick transmigration Department. In order to wait for a good reincarnation, she strived to accumulate merit and traveled into one world after another to repair the way of heaven.

- Description from Novelupdates

Illustration for the characters and location are in my Patreon.=================Dying from a heart attack when playing Minecraft was definitely not the way I thought I would die.Being reincarnated afterward was also not what I thought would happen.But I guess having another chance at life is a great thing!Now, how am I going to live in this world of Swords and Spells?

After three years of hidden marriage, he handed her the divorce papers because his first love had returned and he wanted to give that woman legitimacy to their relationship.She endured the sadness in her heart and signed.On the day he registered his marriage with his white moonlight, she had a car accident, and lost the twins in her womb.From then on, she changed all her contact information and completely left his world.Later it was heard that he left his newlywed wife and searched for her all over the world.On the day they reunited, he blocked her path and begged, “Sweetie, give me a chance, please.”

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.”