My House of Horrors - Chapter 703 - Scared Until My Illness Has Recovered

The path of cultivation from scratch.Under the disguise of being a playboy.He is actually the boss behind the largest assassin organization——Misty Rain Tower.Aiming for the world!

When waking up, Jiang Tian found out that it was not too late.

In his previous life, Jiang Tian was a member of Jiang family in Jinling. He suffered a disgrace that was his fiancee broke off the pledge of marriage, so he had to marry into the Zhao family. Although Zhao Xueqing, his wife was the first beauty in Hangzhou, he always beat and scolded her. A few years later, he went through a family upheaval, and his loved ones died one after another. With despair, guilt and hatred, Jiang Tian jumped from a cliff. But he did not die. Instead, he started a cultivation journey for as long as ten thousand years in another space.

He became the supreme god, but he died in the process of opening up the universe. With the regret for his parents and the guilt for Zhao Xueqing, Jiang Tian, who retained several thousand years of memory, swore that he would never let his loved one suffer any grievances and injuries this time!

- Description from Novelupdates

At level 2, most people unlocked their first talent; those who didn’t were considered fortunate, as they had the potential to unlock rarer talents requiring higher levels. The world’s most rare and powerful talents were revealed at level 5. But what if someone didn’t obtain a talent? Luck quickly turned to misfortune as they were labeled talentless, with no hope of gaining a talent. Sol was one such person who was unable to unlock his talent, but he refused to give up. He persistently fought and trained every day, slowly increasing his level despite the disadvantage in skills. He held onto the hope that, one day, he would be bestowed with a talent like everyone else. As years passed, his determination began to wane until one fateful day. You have leveled up! +5 Free stats. Talent Unlocked - [Siphoner]! This event marked the beginning of his story.

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.”