There's No Way My Dad Is A Legendary Cultivator - Chapter 112 - Chuanyun Sect’s Sect Protecting Formation

Meet Baek Ri-hyun, the renowned legendary martial artist of murim and was given the title Martial God.In a battle against the Heavenly Demon who has transcended mortality, Baek Ri-hyun was suddenly pulled by an unknown forces to bring him to another world by the power of a goddess who is in need of help from different people, not knowing she pulled a god into her world.Blessed with a system to aid the growth of the future heroes, I don't think he'll need something like it as he ventures the new world.

She gave up her wealth and power to save her husband and his company when they were on the brink of extinction.However he repaid her by bringing home his childhood sweetheart and divorcing her! He insulted her, called her names, a cheap lowly bitch and a gold-digger. Her sister in law treated her like trash, her mother in law called her a scheming fox who wanted to climb the social ladder.Fine! Divorce so it is then!Left without a single penny, she applied for a job and became a waitress. Who would know she bumped into her ex husband and his new fiancée there?!But there was another man whose business contract she accidentally discarded.That mysterious man came to her with a condition.“You made me lost a very important business contract, now you must pay,”“How much? I don't have money. I'm not for sale either,” the girl raised her chin arrogantly.“Become my fake girlfriend. I need a woman to please my grandfather,” Shentu Jing said. His charming dark eyes seemed to be tempting her, luring her into an abyss.But when she arrived in front of his grandfather, he announced her as his fiancée!“I thought you said I was your girlfriend!” Qin Zhuzhu glared daggers at him.“Sorry, now you are my wife,” the man's peach blossom eyes gazed at her lovingly.Who is this mysterious husband of hers?One day her phone rang with a notification of the latest financial news. There, she saw a man similar to her husband. Her husband is the richest Tycoon in the capital???!!!

In the tribal farming era, the world was vast and unknown. Upon continuous exploration, the people of ancient times were appalled to discover that in this world, where the sky was round and the earth was square, all sorts of miracles had befallen them. There were even figures like an ultra-big ten-thousand-foot giant, as well as huge intelligent beasts that had mysteriously appeared, trampling upon the mountains and rivers, and shattering the earth. Hundreds of years later, in such a dangerous environment, people fought against the huge beasts and finally established the glorious Sumerian civilization. On this day, a wise giant suddenly made a complete descension on earth, trampling on all the mountains and rivers, and wiping out the entire nation. The world crumbled, and city-states collapsed; had the gods descended to condemn the people?

“I’m sorry, you’re all just ants living in the orchard of my yard and you are just scrambling all over the place. If I were to accidentally pass you by, I might just accidentally trample you all to death. That’s it for you.” So first, I’ll set up a sandbox in my own yard, a base area for plotting farmland. Then, I will shepherd the human race and various worlds in my sandbox.

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.”