My Players Are So Fierce - Chapter 15:

The genius cultivator Lin Xuanzhi didn’t let down the world in his past life, yet he only betrayed a single Yan Tianhen.

A terrible calamity has fallen onto Zhang Fan, not only becoming one of the three survivors of Grass Temple Village, where everyone else was horribly massacred, he was also tasked to carry one of the most evil artifacts, the Sinister Bead, and taught one of the most secret teachings of the Skysong Sect, the Brahmin Wisdom. Now he cultivates in the Jadeon Sect, his knowledge and possession will draw him into a chaotic story where he will have to carry some of the greatest burdens of the Martial World.

“Knowledge is Power, But What If The Wise Won't Use It?”

Ethan Riddles - A genius among geniuses who never tapped into his true potential because of his sheer laziness and not having any ambition at all.

Unfortunately, He was hit by the Good'Ol Truck-Kun while exploring a Mysterious, Newly-Found Temple and died as a result.

“I Can At Least Live a Carefree Life In This New World As a Noble.”

Will he still be able to live a carefree life in the Power-Driven World of Swords and Magic, Politics and Conspiracies, Gods and Beasts, Kingdoms and Empires?

Ethan who simply likes to sit below the trees and watch the drifting clouds as the cold breeze blows over his face—now must use his wisdom and intelligence to protect himself and his family from the enemies.

While Ethan believes he can still manage to live a carefree life, he soon catches the glimpse of some mysteries as well as The Wheels of Fate he is unfortunately entangled with.

Can he Defeat those who mean him harm with the newfound power and his own wit while living a carefree life? Or does Fate have other plans for him?

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.”