I Have A Qi Fortune Altar - Chapter 1475 - 712: The 8th Heavenly Tribulation!

Alex who has a crippling fear of death died and woke up as a tiny lizard with an evolution system. Now he has to consume, grow and evolve to be the strongest being in all of existence so neither God nor Demon could threaten his life. If he can't face his fear, he might as well make sure there's no need to have it

We’ve had systems that help the MCs make pills, steal skills from legendary masters, and even be forced to show off to earn points, but what about a system that allows one to run a virtual reality internet cafe, featuring all the classic games?

Our MC awakens in a new world and finds himself with a mysterious system that allows him to run a fully self-sufficient virtual reality internet cafe! What? Opening an internet cafe in a cultivator world? You can now surf the internet, watch dramas, and play video games?!

One Emperor Warrior cried after visiting MC’s shop, “Damn, Blizzard completes my life!”

Another Yuan River Realm cultivator gasped after drinking Sprite, “What is this sorcery?”

What else did the MC bring to the cultivator world? Come join us on this adventure as Fang Qi faces off against cultivation sects and major forces with his collection of modern treasures.

Gu Shanhai saw the great world of the heavens, and took the life of the third life.

The gods of the world forged an eternal Utopia with blood and fire.

The Red Dragon King led his knights to inspect the dynasty on which the sun never sets.

Scholars talked and laughed and swung their swords to draw thousands of miles of rivers and mountains, and strange demons opened their eyes and clawed to give birth to ghosts and monsters.

…

“Everyone is a player, you can’t call me abnormal because I don’t have digitization?”

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”