The Ancestor of our Sect Isn’t Acting like an Elder - Chapter 210.2

“Why don’t they think about training to grow stronger during a time when just breathing makes you stronger?”After possessing someone, he decided to silently train to become a great mage.“Did it appear?”[You have acquired the All-Attribute Body (Fire, Water, Wind, Earth, Wood, Electricity, Light, Darkness).][You have acquired the highest-grade elixir, Dragon’s Essence (SSS).]……Let’s take a slightly different path to growth from others.

When he woke up, Zhou Sui became a low-level Qi refiner in the world of immortality. Fortunately, he obtained the most precious Gu god bowl, which can refine various Gu insects.

Refining the Spring and Autumn Gu can prolong life and make you immortal.

The refining golden cicada Gu can give birth to dead people, flesh and white bones.

Refining the Dragon Elephant Gu to gain the power of the Dragon Elephant, the body of the Dragon Elephant, and the indestructibility of the King Kong

But the Gu he refined for the first time was the Infatuation Gu.

From then on, he discovered a bright road to cultivation.

The years change, the mountains and rivers change, but I am the eternal Zhou family.

- Description from novelbuddy

Reincarnated into a Dating-Sim sounds fun? But what if you have never heard about that “World of Myst” game? And that is exactly what happened to Sam Roland. Poor Sam with only basic-dating experience, had no idea he was supposed to “capture” the women he is hiding from.

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.”