My Wife is an Aloof Beauty - Chapter 1787 The Young Generation (Part Two)

Elias' world was destroyed right in front of his eyes. Only after his transmigration did he learn that there was nothing natural about its destruction.“Mother, I passed my Practical Exams! I was so lucky to get a weak world like Earth for my practicals! It only took a few months!”The person who destroyed his world was the eldest son of the family he was transmigrated to, the Ashborns.He could never forget his sister's cries when she suffered and eventually died from the virus that wreaked havoc in his world. And here he was, the person responsible, laughing.Elias wanted to repay the favor. He wanted to bring absolute ruination to these people. And for that, he had to play by their rules. He had to become the Architect of an Apocalypse…

Ling Xue traveled through the fantasy world and became the villain.At the beginning of the story, he gained an extraordinary ability linked to the consciousness of the number one heroine.The stronger the heroine imagines him to be (only on the surface), the stronger he becomes (In Reality).The heroine perceived Ling Xue as an enduring force, an invincible golden spear. She believed that Ling Xue has reached the pinnacle of cultivation and can achieve the highest realm.…So far, Ling Xue has only pretended to be imposing, leaving the rest to the heroine’s imagination…

Ben was having the worst day of his life—then he died. But instead of moving on to whatever comes next, he woke up in the Wizarding World as Benedict Brown, the alternate male version of Lavender Brown. Which is... concerning, because Lavender Brown did not have a great time during the Second Wizarding War.On the bright side, he’s apparently the Dovahkiin. And he has a Skyrim shop system. So, you know, pros and cons.Can he survive Hogwarts, Death Eaters, and whatever else this world throws at him? Or will he end up as werewolf chow just like Lavender? One thing’s for sure—he’s going to loot everything that isn’t nailed down.

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.”