The Crown's Entrapment - Chapter 742 Reunited Siblings

As soon as he crossed over, Su Mu came to another world.

In this world, there are warriors, qi refiners, and all kinds of terrifying ghosts and monsters!

A good rebirth simulator turned into a death simulator because it was too dangerous.

For him, death is not the end, but the beginning.

In the simulation again and again, thousands of demons have been derived!

The flesh and blood are put into the pot, divided and eaten, turning into a bloody skeleton.

He died in a wrongful battle, his body did not rot, and he turned into a dry zombie.

Introduce thunder into the body, turn extreme yin into yang, and transform into a fierce reggae.

Devouring demon souls, suffocating the sky, turning into an undead ghost car.

Some people become immortals.

There are also people who die into demons!

- Description from novelbuddy

Earth has changed and with it so has humanity.Follow Miwen as he makes use of his Gift, Gacha Kingdom Building.

Reborn as a sister of a villain with no blood or tears in a war-fiction novel. Anyway, that guy, who plays ‘my brother’ role, is a villain who will be sealed by the Main Lead after losing the war. So I just need to pretend to be his little sister until he disappears. No, at least that’s how I think … ‘Something in your right hand, is that the main lead’s head?’ My brother won the war. *** “What’s with the suitcase?” “Yes?” At the tip of Dietrich’s long finger, there was a package that I had wrapped up as soon as he left for the battlefield. “I asked what it is.” “It’s, It’s a travel bag, brother.” “Travel? Alone?” Dietrich’s dark eyes glistened. The man who had just returned from victory had a strange smell of blood from mu*der. “Will you leave me?”

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.”