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... the nails of his fingers began to become long and sharp visibly, and two sharp fangs also appeared in his mouth.

“Liu Feng, I advise you not to be more aggressive. You definitely can’t kill the person that my National Training School wants to protect.”

“Liu Feng, I’m afraid you don’t know what National Training School is. Let me tell you. Half of the bodyguards in Zhongnaihai of the Celestial Empire are trained by National Training School. Half of the personal bodyguards for the ...

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Lin Feng tried to be the diligent and hard-working good guy. He studied hard, did his best to make his family proud and not get into trouble, but when he saw a girl being taken advantage of, he had to intervene. He had been tricked, sentenced to 10 years in jail and framed for a crime he never committed, all was lost. If his life was over he would take those who ruined his life with him

Suddenly he opens his eyes again. He is not dead, but alive in the body of the Lin Feng of a different world. This Lin Feng had been killed as trash of cultivation. This world where the strong had no regard for human life and would kill freely if they had the strength. Called “trash” and thrown away, with vengeance in his heart he will rise to new heights opposing the will of heaven and earth.

“Do not judge others in ignorance within my presence.

Those who think to harm someone should be ready to be harmed.

Those who are open and respectful shall receive my kindness and respect.

Those who plot against me are seeking their own death.

This is true, for I am death… I am Lin Feng”

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Su Yan adored Xie Yu for many years and finally got what she wanted, but Xie Yu ran away on the wedding day, making her a laughing stock. At that time, Bai Xingfan appeared in front of her. He held a black umbrella in his skeletal hand to shield her from the heavy rain, and the other hand stretched out in front of her with a gentle and determined voice: “Don’t be afraid, still With me.” Su Yan was stunned with tears in her eyes for a long time, and finally, she reached out to Bai Xingfan.

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Jin, a hardcore gamer who still lives with his mom at the age of 24. He could never hold down a steady job since graduating, his girlfriend since high school dumped him for his best friend and he's constantly getting beat up by a group of local gang members. His dad left him and his mom when he became rich from the lottery and got a new family, one free of debt and burdens as he called it. His mom works 3 jobs to keep everything from falling apart, except for herself slowly. One day on his way home with the very first and new fully immersive VRMMORPG called Realm of Myths and Legends or RML for short, he died from a hit and run car accident. RML was advertised as the worlds first fully immersive VRMMORPG, allowing for players with skill sets in the real world, like sword training, martial arts, archery or reaction time, to benefit in the game itself! Though Jin died and at that moment a soul from another world crossed over into his body and inherited his memories. The man known as Izroth once hailed as the greatest cultivator in the seven realms, soul reincarnates into the modern world year 20xx in the body of Jin.

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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.”