Water Ink Panel: Starting with Bow Technique to Hunt the Sun and Patrol the Skies - Chapter 355 - 36: Formidable Enemy Strikes, Punch First

Wonderful wizards mix and match Western magic and Eastern mysticism, and become the most unexpected wizard or Taoist priest in the world.

Tom: Watch out Vijay, Tiger Tank!

Vijay: Shrink quickly, just missing a keychain, hehe…

Tom: The mummy is resurrected, run

Vijay: What are you panicking about? Come and get a corpse talisman, stop first, just squatted in the pit and forgot to bring toilet paper…

- Description from novelbuddy

When Yao Shen, Patriarch of the Heavenly Sky Sect, ascends and regains memories of his past life on Planet Earth, he realizes that he can no longer allow himself to accept the cruel and violent ways of Eliria, the realm of cultivation. So he decides to change it. It was time to found a new sect. One based on the values of honor and equality over senseless violence and discrimination. A sect where all, from the mortal farmer’s son to a sect elder's daughter, were held accountable to the same rules. Welcome to the Modern Sect.

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.”