Coiling Dragon (Pan Long) - Vol 21 Chapter 12: The First Display of Power

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When the Demons and Angels of the 99th floor detected a threat to their reign, they teamed up to topple the man who'd placed them in such a situation.

The Lord of Sins, a walking calamity of the Heaven's Spire, had put pressure on the transcendents no mortal had ever done.

However, before the Lord of Sins could revolt against their reign, the Demons and Angels decided to nip the threat in the bud.

Manipulating his clanmates, using other clans, controlling fate...

They used all powers available to them in an attempt to halt the advance of the Lord of Sins. Eventually, it worked, and the Lord of Sins fell from grace.

But it wasn't a happy ending for the vicious transcendents.

“I'll return one day, stronger than ever and as a force even you can't touch! I'll become the Lord of Sins again!”

The man returned to the past with a goal in mind.

Everything else was just an interference.

“Return of The Strongest Player” is a gripping tale of a man's ascendance. His journey back to the pinnacle of strength, the adversities blocking his path, and the comrades he eventually acknowledged.

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An unexpected journey took a group of university students into a secret room from which, upon returning, they began to disappear one by one. In order to unravel the mystery, they joined forces, traversing heaven and earth, diving deep into seas, crossing the farthest corners of the world, and even daring to time travel, only to find that behind each puzzle lay yet another.

¬ This story isn't mine, I just want to post it here so I can read in this app.

He’s in the deepest part of the Jianghu. Keep your eyes wide open if you do not wish to get dragged into the abyss.

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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.”