Strongest Spirit Beast Master Family - Chapter 28 - Angsana Pavillion Festival

Chen Ming was transmigrated into a cultivation world with a super cheat gaming system. He will soar through heaven while living his life as he pleased!

One day, Wang Ping joined a transmigrators' group chat, where each member could randomly transmigrate to different worlds and obtain their own exclusive cheats. Wang Ping thought he was about to reach the pinnacle of his life...

“Wait, 60 out of 67 group members went offline? What happened?”

“Ding, one group member was eliminated. Chen Kang, who joined the group chat at the same time as you, has died. He didn't survive for even ten seconds. All group members, please take this as a warning.”

Wang Ping was stunned, instantly realizing that this transmigrators' group chat was a huge scam, with a high mortality rate among its members. Death could happen in the blink of an eye.

Fortunately, Wang Ping awakened the Life Simulator!

“Ding, Life Simulator activated, talent refreshing...”

“Congratulations to the host for obtaining the golden talent—Holy Body, the legendary talent—Space-Time Celestial Body, and the legendary talent—Becoming Stronger By Taking In Disciples.”

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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.”

The world I transmigrated into was a dark fantasy game universe, devoid of hope or dreams.Doesn’t feel like it at all, though.