MTL - Invincible Combat Strength System - Chapter 155 Is this black astringent society?

When Chen Ren transmigrated as a trouble-making young master in a world of cultivation overrun by sects, beasts and clans full of murderous people, he wanted nothing to do with it. He simply wanted to make money. After all, even in a world of magical murderhobos, money reigned supreme.Ignoring the numerous martial daos, he chose the dao of money which lets him reach higher cultivation realms, the better his businesses do. Using his brains and earthly knowledge, he build businesses and acquire resources to reach immortality. But before that, he had to deal with a mountain of debt, the cultivators who wanted to kill him and deciding on his first business idea.***What to expect -1. Lots of businesses and mc getting rich. 2. A highly competent main character. 3. An interesting Cultivation journey. 4. Mysteries. 5. Face slapping.6. Sect building.7. Cats.8. Average 3k words chaptersWhat not to expect -1. Harem 2. Not catsInspired by Black Market Litrpg, Laws of Cultivation and Calculating Cultivation.

For a certain LOL competition, a certain online streamer famous for pissing people off was currently explaining and broadcasting it at the same time.

Streamer: This support, so tr*sh.

Streamer: If that jungler was my teammate, I would already be idling at the fountain and playing piano for him by now.

Streamer: I recommend that this player go back and properly practice how to last hit.

Audience: What bullshit! If you’re any better, then you do it!

Streamer: Daddy I really can do it.

Audience: Okokok. If you can do it then I’ll chop off my head so you can kick it.

A few months later, LOL’s veteran pro team TTC announced a new mid laner, Soft. A boy with flashy blue hair appeared in front of the audience and played Zed to utter perfection, killing everyone he saw, causing all the female fans to begin toeing the line of infidelity.

During the MVP interview after the match, everyone held their breath and eagerly watched this newcomer.

Only to see the boy accept the microphone, smile and ask, “That water friend with the StarTV user ID ‘Suburb King 101,’ my team’s address is on the official website, when will you mail your head over?”

After a certain regular season match finished, the staff member went backstage to urge the team members to go onstage and conduct their interviews, only to see TTC’s new mid laner and jungler standing in the corner.

TTC’s number one ace · jungler daddy Road pressed their team’s new mid laner Soft against the wall. He lowered his eyes and asked lowly, “At the interview, do you know what you did?”

That quick-tempered mid laner, who had solidified his image as a troll in the audience’s eyes the very first time he went on stage, turned completely red. “I know. I won’t curse at anyone… I definitely won’t curse at anyone.”

On this land of real souls, with millions of different martial art institutions, there’re so many strong fighters just like the trees in the forests.

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.”