A Blind Swordsman's Sword Coffin - Chapter 36 - The Village’s Fog and Rumors

We’ve had systems that help the MCs make pills, steal skills from legendary masters, and even be forced to show off to earn points, but what about a system that allows one to run a virtual reality internet cafe, featuring all the classic games?

Our MC awakens in a new world and finds himself with a mysterious system that allows him to run a fully self-sufficient virtual reality internet cafe! What? Opening an internet cafe in a cultivator world? You can now surf the internet, watch dramas, and play video games?!

One Emperor Warrior cried after visiting MC’s shop, “Damn, Blizzard completes my life!”

Another Yuan River Realm cultivator gasped after drinking Sprite, “What is this sorcery?”

What else did the MC bring to the cultivator world? Come join us on this adventure as Fang Qi faces off against cultivation sects and major forces with his collection of modern treasures.

Life is simply too short to have fun.

Yan An agreed with this saying and decided to seek some sort of fun during her lonely trip.

And now, in the present, inside the cramped airplane cabin, the skydiving instructor is sitting next to her.

With an upright face and long and toned legs, the instructor overall has a striking and abstinent impression.

Indeed it is an abundantly beautiful spring; spring is now in the human world.

“Hey, handsome, my life is now in your hands now, so why don’t you give me your phone number, huh?”

*

As the first ray of sunlight penetrates the receding darkness of the night, Shan Yi slowly gets up, his rugged and sensual figure laid bare for all to see.

But room is so dead and quiet as if there hasn’t been any trace of any living person.

Then the phone under the pillow vibrates: I have a sudden emergency, I’m returning to China first, thank you for your hospitality, and see you in the rivers and lakes soon! Bye-bye, Handsome.

Shan Yi silently smiled at the message; the morning rays of the sun didn’t bring any warmth.

*

In Beitong Airlines, a new batch of trainee pilots has been recently dispatched.

Yan An, who was assigned to follow the new captain of the aircraft, heard that he is one of the most competent and punctual captains in the entire civil aviation industry.

And around that time, she heard the clacking sound of leather shoes approaching the door, Yan An decided sneakily stretched her neck to take a quick look, where she was left utterly dumbfounded.

The man is in a crisp and pristine uniform. He has broad shoulders, narrow waist, and tall, upright body, that is seemingly bursting with testosterone.

The gaze of the two collided, and with his black eyes so piercing and deep, Shan Yi raised his thin lips into a smile yet not like a smile, he gently pressed a hundred-euro bill onto the table, and calmly stated,

“Returning it to its rightful owner.”

The man declared in a cold-clipped tone: “My worth, when compared to this amount of money, is far from close.”

Yan Dog: F*ck, you have lost your future by being wild like this!

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”

A high-ranking officer in the Marines and a master of both Western and Chinese medicine, Feng Yu Heng is transmigrated with a duang sound to the Da Shun Dynasty.