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... e universe and even higher levels of the universe Go for it, grow more insights, and improve your cultivation!" Xiao Wuyan is eager to try, there is a feeling of wanting to regain a new life.

Qin Lang knows that Xiao Wuyan is only a typical young genius monk. His nature is not an extreme, evil person. Before he knew that he was being used and calculated, Xiao Wuyan really realized the sinisterness of the high-level cosmic powerhouse. Now Since there is an opportunity to enter the high-lev ...

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“Confession Rejection System 1.0: Every time you reject a confession, you become stronger!”

As a weak, helpless and pitiful 3-year-old child, Amamiya Noriko,

In the crisis-ridden world of Conan, he became a kindergarten friend of Kudo Shinichi.

It seems that only by refusing to confess can you live more than a thousand episodes.

Conan: That guy Amamiya is playing with other people’s minds again.

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In the peaceful Ning City, the Shen family had two lovely daughters. The elder Miss Shen, Shen Ru, was smart and capable, while the second Miss Shen, Shen Yan, was charming and beautiful.

One day, a third daughter, Shen Wan, appeared.

Shen Wan was quiet and unremarkable. She looked weak and helpless.

Mr. Shen said, “Let her stay.”

Mrs. Shen said, “A daughter born to a lowly woman is still lowly.”

Shen Ru said, “She’s too plain and simple.”

Shen Yan said, “Brother Qi dislikes unattractive things the most.”

Shen Wan coldly smiled and thought, Don’t worry, take it easy. None of you can escape!’

In her past life, Shen Wan lost all her blood, her organs were hollowed out, and she died on a cold operating table.

She lived thirty years without having any children.

In this life, she came for revenge. She carefully planned every step and turned Ning City upside down. But inadvertently, she drew the attention of a demon king.

The people respectfully called Quan Hanting “Lord Six”. He was cold and heartless, and his identity was a mystery.

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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.”

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From that day on, the whole post-apocalyptic world became like a game.