MTL - Record of the Missing Sect Master - Chapter 46

She had a dream: the world was brimming with light. Family. School. Friends. Trains. Buses. Movies. Books. In that world of light, she grew into adulthood… and at the very end, in a white room, she fell into darkness. She awoke from the dream to find that she had become a demon. In the demon world, she lived a carefree life until she encountered a powerful being.

【sweet! Be sweet! Cool! Keep cool! 1V1+ Almighty! 】

[chronological text + rebirth + fool + ancient martial arts + metaphysics + magic doctor + farming + getting rich]

Qin Xi was reborn.

Reborn in 1983, he was cheaply married to a fool by the superb family, and accidentally inherited the mysterious medicine on the day of his rebirth.

Since then, the silver needle has crossed people and tricks, not only cured the fool husband, but also designed to kick the best family members, leading the husband’s family to prosper…

PS: It doesn’t look good, you hit me! …slightly can’t hit!

- Description from novelbuddy

“Why? Just why?”“Why did I became this guy?” That was the first thing I said when I see myself on the mirrors reflection.Lucien Drelmont.A bottom-tier instructor at Noctis Ardentis Academy. A joke of a character. A corrupt, talentless noble despised by both students and faculty.He was one of the early game villain, that was destined to die, a stepping stone for the protagonist, a scapegoat for the Academy, no matter what way the game is played his death was destined.And now I need to survive as him, in this hellish academy._____________________[No Harem][No Romance][No NTR&Yuri]

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.”