The Devil's Betrothed - Chapter 9: Promise To Meet Again

With the unexpectedly obtained unknown civilization technology, bionic robots, artificial intelligence, quantum mechanical transmission, supercomputers, plasma thrusters, nuclear fusion, these black technologies are constantly being manufactured in Wang Xiao’s hands.

Knowledge is power. With the help of unknown civilization technology, Wang Xiao, who has acquired this knowledge and black technology, has tickets to a better future and a sea of stars.

- Description from Qidian

The gong has loved the shou for a long time already but he does not dare to confess his feelings. Without any better option, he joined forces with a system to kidnap the shou, dragging him through many quick transmigration world in an attempt to capture him. Afterwards…

Shou: This bed partner is very good. Can develop into a long term bed partner.

Gong: Why is it just a bed partner? Let’s agree to love each other!

Ye Jun Ge: Did you take your medicine?

System 004: …QAQ

- Description from Novelupdates

At Divine Wind Continent, there is cultivation system—douqi, illusion and magic.

Ren Tian You was a fan of Naruto, and a single moment of carelessness caused him to arrive in different world.

Unexpectedly, only to discover that his body possessed Naruto system!

What? You will use douqi! I, your father’s taijutsu is also not weak! Look at my shadow dance!

What? You will use illusions! I, your father however have every illusions’ ancestor, Sharingan! Look at my Tsukuyomi!

What? You are a magician! I, your father am a ninja! Look at my fire style——– grand fireball!

- 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.”