After reincarnating, I became a second generation villain - Chapter 293 Am I A Member Of The Lin Family?

“She was a demon to begin with, how could she possibly be corrupted by encountering me, a human? Critics always talk about ludicrous things.”In 1798, during an interview with the press, Cardinal Bishop Lanci was asked about his past with the exiled last princess of the Demon Race, as well as recent signs of the resurrection of the demons. He stated:“I have made too many efforts to defend world peace, I am quite sure, there is absolutely no possibility for the Demon Race to revive under her leadership.”......In the winter of 1802, the revival of the Demon Race succeeded.[Based on the above information, please indicate who is the main culprit leading to the revival of the Demon Race, and explain why it is Lanci. (10 points)]—— excerpt from “Classic Examination Questions in Empire History.”

Yang Dongxu found himself reborn and returned to 1979, a time when China was full of opportunities. The Soviet Union or the superpower seems to be doing something.

It seems that Hong Kong’s entertainment industry is not prosperous enough. The NBA is not hot enough, it seems to do something…

- Description from Qidian

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.”