Everlasting Immortal Firmament - Chapter 116Book 08 : Ming Bestows a Divine Technique on Ba

The ashes-level player traveled through World of Warcraft and became Jaina’s brother. We are also princes now.

For the sake of the survival of the family, should I discount my sister’s legs first, lest she become a kinslayer in the future?

and many more? How come you have to die first?

Let me see the walkthrough.

Well, first touch the forehead to open the character panel,

Then he picked up his weapon and opened the skull of the orc,

If you drop the equipment, you will earn it. If you don’t have it, you don’t have to be sad. Wash your hands, and then go to the next one…

Okay, no kidding, let’s get serious and start the story again:

Death is a key that opens a new life.

Blake Xiao holds the player template, can fight monsters and upgrade, sit on the occupation system, and make great progress all the way.

Tighten the cloak of the night, hold the shadow as the blade, sharpen the minions with slaughter, and feed the ambition with fear.

From the Kingdom of Storms to Orgrimmar, his wicked deeds are known,

His notoriety is known to everyone from Icecrown to Pandaria.

When the black-clothed emperor emerged from the shadows, the whole world trembled.

This is the story of this man, from Khaz Modan six years in the Dark Portal…

- Description from novelbuddy

On the server “Altar,” a high-class survival game was officially launched. Survival was the only logic in the human game of alliance, betrayal, and human-natured games of deceit and treachery. After the smoke of gunpowder ends, only the survivors can speak.

As soon as he opened his eyes, the amnesiac An Wujiu saw a person at his side killed. While in confusion, a floating green typeface appeared before him.

Variable Name: An Wujiu
Attributes: Male, 20 years old
Game Rounds: 5
Win Rate: 100/100
Danger Rank: SSS

No wonder they were afraid.

The first time he saw An Wujiu, Shen Ti felt curious. The kindness and fragility in those eyes were not fake, so how could he survive in the Altar? It was until he saw the man had a sudden personality change. He recklessly gambled regardless of the cost, casually estranged people, grew further excited on the verge of death, and even calculated against himself to win. Only then did Shen Ti realize that it was his own cognitive bias.

Fortunately, he wasn’t a normal person either.

- Description from Novelupdates

After failing to transmigrate to a proper cultivation world, Lin Zhengran woke up to find himself as a little kid… in kindergarten.With no other choice, he decides to fool the system by pretending to cultivate.[Today, you encountered a fairy descending the mountain. You must find a way to obtain the Pure Yang Elixir in her hand.]Lin Zhengran looked at the milk candy in his childhood friend’s hand.“Give me the candy. Do you need to go to the restroom? I’ll call the teacher for you.”The little girl, confused and innocent, handed the candy to Lin Zhengran.“Here’s the candy…”[Congratulations! Without lifting a blade or striking a blow, you successfully obtained the Pure Yang Elixir from the fairy!]

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.”