Disciple Cultivation System:All my students are legendary. - Chapter 84: Disciple cultivation System ch Lost days pt2.

“Want to know the meaning of life? Want to live… a real life?” The world changes when you click YES. In God’s dimension, you have to keep getting stronger, keep evolving to survive one horror movie after another. Do you kill everyone in your way to reach the end as a lone king? Or fight along with your comrades and survive through the support of friends? Everything was just for staying alive. Until you find the secret of God’s dimension. Who is the real enemy?

Black belly, online IQ

Reborn in the magnificent world of cultivating immortals

Everything is based on ‘stability’, and everything is settled before moving, and when moving, there is a thunderbolt, and after moving, there is no sound.

Hidden cards, refining elixir, practicing escape, and practicing spells.

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- Description from novelbuddy

Synopsis: I have joined a harem warrior's party in search of magical ingredients. But why does the warrior keep talking to me? ______________________ Reiew: The protagonist, who goes by the name Louis, joins a hero's party to gather magical ingredients. The party, made up of heroes who admire the main hero, initially sees Louis as a competitor. However, Louis has no interest in becoming a heroine or pursuing a romantic relationship with the hero. Instead, Louis plans to support the heroes and ensure they stay together, but finds herself constantly misunderstood as a rival. Louis’s quirky and endearing traits lead to humorous interactions with the hero's party as she tries to prove she’s not interested in romance​.

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.”