After I Became a Divine Monarch, the Sect Wants Me to Marry In - Chapter 490 - 329: I Heard the Immortal Has a Big Grudge Against Me

Jiang Che traveled here and practiced for eighteen years to awaken the sign-in system.“Ding, the host signs in to Snow Moon City, and is rewarded with the inheritance of the Drunken Sword Immortal!”“Ding, the host signs in to Peach Blossom Island, and is rewarded with the Tai Chi Xuanqing Dao!”“Ding, the host signs in to the Yin-Yang Family Residence, and is rewarded with the dual cultivation secret technique Yin-Yang Heavenly Immortal Technique!”With the sign-in system, Jiang Che traveled around the Jiuzhou Continent and stood at the top of the world step by step!Li Hanyi: “Legendary man, look at the sword!”Huang Rong: “Woo woo woo, Brother Che, please let me go…”Wanwan: “My feet are fragrant and soft? My brother-in-law is a pervert!”Jiang Che: “It’s over, the whole Jiuzhou Continent knows that I am a scumbag!”

Bai Chuan has a particularly powerful ability, he can take apart everything in the world as a model and choose the best ability structure to give to himself.

If he was born in a mythical world, given him a period of time, he would be able to overthrow the heavens and the world, become an immortal and become an ancestor.

If he was born in a world with extraordinary monsters and beasts, given him a period of time, he could also become the strongest beast, called invincible and immortal.

It’s a pity…he was born in an ordinary world of low martial arts.

“The water in this world is too shallow to raise real dragons…” He looked at the sky and muttered to himself.

Since real dragons cannot be raised in shallow water, wouldn’t it be better to make the pond deeper?

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”

When you're reborn as Jorah Mormont you ain't got much. A Dad looking to bale and go spend his days hanging out with the guys on the Wall, a wild Aunt raising your wild cousins you can't stand, an arranged marriage to a girl you never met with a dowry almost low enough to be an insult, and a populace of smallfolk so inebriated and incompetent its no wonder nothing's changed around here in 8,000 years. Hopefully the gold finger granted by Levid's Magically Wheel of Reincarnation can help.A really nice pair of testicles.With that, the right attitude, and a shovel I have everything I need to dig a nice grave to lay in.Or Bag End. Let's see which happens first.