Villain Cultivator - Chapter 144: I'll Be Back One Day!

In a world intertwining magic, knights, and burgeoning technology, young Leonard grapples with memories of a past life in the modern world after waking up reborn in this new, tumultuous reality. Separated from his family amidst a devastating conflict, Leonard's life takes a precarious turn when he is taken under the wing of Alfonso, a reclusive and somewhat deranged wizard. Under Alfonso's tutelage and the rigorous demands of a daily task panel that rewards him for mundane chores with experience points, Leonard finds himself thrust into a harsh survival regime, far removed from his previous life's comforts. His daily life oscillates between mastering arcane spells, learning the delicate art of Earth Ring meditation, and handling the meager sustenance at the prison-like estate where he and Alfonso reside.As Leonard's skills grow, so too does his awareness of the wider conflicts that plague this world, blend of industrial revolution-era technology and dark magical forces. The task panel becomes a strange companion, guiding him through tasks that blend the mundane with the magical, pushing him to grow stronger. Amidst the backdrop of this grim reality. The complex interplay of power, survival, and the echoes of his former life drives Leonard to not only master his new abilities but to unravel the mysteries of this world and perhaps find a way back to his family, despite the cold indifference of his master. Each experience point earned and each new ring formed in his meditation brings him closer to understanding this world's brutal truths and his own place within it.

Before her death, Xia Wan has seen her own family being set up and killed, her beloved recognizing the wrong person as his savior, and their engagement party!

Even her upperclassman had run a blade through her chest, snarling spitefully, “Xia Bing will have everything with your death!

It was Xia Bing again! She stole all of Xia Wan’s accomplishments and her lover’s, but wanted her dead as well!

And yet, Xia Wan could not say a word against her! However, when she thought that her death was inevitable, Xia Wan was reincarnated to a day 18 years ago, when her whole family was still alive and before all tragedy began!

This time, she swore that she will have her family stay safe, healthy and happy.

Insincere skanks trying to stop her? She slapped them until they cry! Scumbags wanting to date her?

Xia Wan: Sorry, you’re too ugly. After chasing off everyone and finally earning some peace, Xia Wan was going to sleep when someone knocked on her door.

She opened it to find her beloved from the last life!

”Do I happen to fit your type?” The sight of his white shirt and slightly bared chest left Xia Wan clutching her bleeding nose.

Xia Wan: Men are too sexy in a white shirt! This is against the rules! A certain man: That doesn’t matter. Bringing my wife home is more important!

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.”

No sign in, no punch card.

Do not rely on breathing, do not rely on walking, do not rely on heartbeat.

The system is produced in one step

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