Stellar Train: I Open a Small Shop on the Train - Chapter 86

Reborn into an ancient world of hardship, Chen Qing became a scholar who toiled through ten years of cold study, finally achieving fame on the golden list. Just when he thought he'd join the ranks of the literati, marry a beauty, and reach the pinnacle of life, he suddenly found himself entangled in a bizarre and fantastical incident.It was also at that time that he discovered this world was far from simple—there were man-eating demons, heart-bewitching devils, and even the legendary immortals who could live forever but were exceptionally strange!What he found even more inconceivable was... these deadly things seemed... to all have been designed by himself!!!

Yang Dongxu found himself reborn and returned to 1979, a time when China was full of opportunities. The Soviet Union or the superpower seems to be doing something.

It seems that Hong Kong’s entertainment industry is not prosperous enough. The NBA is not hot enough, it seems to do something…

- Description from Qidian

“When I left you, it wasn’t because I was materialistic.”

“I know.”

“He doesn’t love me. I already broke up with him.”

“I know.”

“You knew? I didn’t know you were still so concerned about me…”

“I know because he and I are now a couple.”

This is a story about how a poor loser turned into a tall, handsome and rich guy and snatched his ex-girlfriend’s current boyfriend away.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”