Two Realms Shuttle Gate: Don't Call Me a Demon! - Chapter 697 - 413: Magic America (Two Updates of 10,000 Words)_3

Born as the fifth son of a Duke, Rex Grimes. Though he was the youngest, he was the toughest contender to the first son of the Grimes, the hope of the Grimes also titled as once in a millennium genius.Will he be able to fight his way out. Maybe not.Facing an unfortunate accident in which he lost all of his cultivation. All his hopes and dreams were lost.{The train has arrived at Valmere Valley}Deciding to go back to his childhood warmth. Rest was the best cure but it seems that there was still a way for him.[Gacha Wheel][Insufficient points]'How do I gain points'[Please Get wives and practice the art of love and creation of life][Only Ying and Yang will give birth the to creation of points]

Anyone who could construct a stable Spell Model could become a Wizard — that was the Wizards’ ultimate secret! Having been given a new life as the son of an aristocrat and armed with a super quantum computer from his past life, Spell Models came as easily as breathing to Merlin. With this overwhelmingly huge advantage, would Merlin become the greatest Grand Wizard of all time?

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.”

The youngest, silly fourteenth son of the Yan Emperor had reached the age where he should be given a separated territory now. He rejected the wealthy land, neighbouring the capital city, and instead chose the wildest land in the western region— Liangcheng. Everyone shook their heads and sighed. A fool is indeed a fool. If you go to Liangcheng, you will be killed by barbarians in less than three to five years.

One year later, the watermelon presented to the Emperor as the tribute from Liangcheng in the west was sweet and crispy. There was no one in the palace who did not love it.

Two years later, Liangcheng presented corn as a tribute to the Emperor. The yield was high, and the taste was good. No one in the country could resist liking it.

Three years later, Liangcheng defeated the barbarians and presented their prisoners in front of the imperial court. The people of Yan were excited and their morale was greatly boosted.

Four years later… Everyone said that the fourteenth prince Mingyu was a fool, while the little fatty Yu, who transmigrated with the golden finger, chuckled. Let’s see how you guys look at this fool build his own territory, then.

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