Family Cultivation: I Become a Mirror - Chapter 69 The Old Taoist

The world changed the day that cracks appeared in the sky– suddenly monsters named『Demonic Beasts』appeared and began to rampage, attacking people.

Meanwhile, girls called『Magical Girls』began to appear to counter the demonic beasts. As they defeated the demonic beasts, gradually people’s lives gained a semblance of composure.

–but when there is light, there is also darkness.

In the corner of an alleyway, a boy who had been attacked by a demonic beast was dying. His voice begging for help did not reach anyone and his body refused to move.

「Boy. Do you want to be saved?」

Looking into the boy’s face, a black cat began to speak to him.

The boy nodded firmly to the devilishly sweet invitation, in response the black cat mocked him.

「Is that so—then I’ll【Haunt (Save)】you」

—on that day, a『Magical Girl』was born in a place that no-one knew.

『She』never laments, no matter what the future may bring.

Chen Xun crossed into the vast world of cultivation, awakened the Immortal System, and even received an Immortal beast as a companion.Chen Xun walked out of the ordinary small mountain village, stepping into the world of cultivation.Experiencing the prosperous era of cultivation world, the golden age, the era of rule collapse, the dark great turmoil era, and the era when all spirits were silent...Chen Xun, have no interest in fighting or killing, nor do I want to provoke anyone. I just want to travel the world with Bull and see all the splendor of the world.

Have you ever thought that the state of the world as it presently is, could revert to the laws of the ancients? When a series of strange incidents beginning with the disappearance of his friend led Luo Yuan to question the possibility of an apocalypse, he becomes embroiled in the midst of a global-scale chaos.

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.”