The Speedrun Manual of Miss Witch - Chapter 79 - Intelligence Network? You Might As Well Run for Pope (1/2)

My past life: Ordinary. Mediocre.

What I want in this life: Riches. Power. Influence.

My goal: To be a prodigal son. A waste youth with riches and power. Maybe even sidekicks.

My name is Ye Lang, I’m an alchemist, and I’m also here to squander as much money as I can.

- Description from novelupdates

Cross the world of suspected secondary elements and carry the rescue system for welfare.

Can you increase your level by increasing your proficiency?

Can you get all kinds of items and abilities after the completion of the task?

Still, need to travel to more secondary worlds to complete the rescue mission?

Well, before Li Yalin needs to consider the most, how to earn enough debt of one hundred million to hold the coffee shop carrying the girl’s dream.

Everything has to start here…

- Description from Novelupdates

When the world became a landscape for a game, humans immediately became dolls who no longer moved nor breathed, frozen like items on display in a shelf.

In the beginning, Bai Youwei thought this was an alien prank. Nobody knew why the humans suddenly became dolls. That was until they were all gathered together and sucked into a bright fog before being greeted by a mechanical voice,

“Ding! Welcome to the Game of Dolls! The rules are as follows:

1. Refusing to play the game will result in dollification!

2. Failure to beat the game will result in dollification!

3. Beating the game to win a doll!”

Bai Youwei walks into the embrace of Shen Mo trembling. “I’m scared, I’m just a weak little girl…”

Shen Mo takes her hand, places it on his abs and says, “Now you don’t have to be scared anymore!”

The game systems starts ringing in the background, “Alert! Alert! Please respect the game and focus! No dating inside the game!”

This is a story of how an intelligent and calm young lady works with a boy with nothing but a hot bod to beat the impossible Game of Dolls!

……………………………………………………………

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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.”