Apocalypse: Transmigrated General's Daughter Uses Space to Survive - Chapter 225: An Emotional Meal

Liang Sheng travels through another world, starting with a child with dull talent.

Chizi is dull: sincere heart, perseverance, extremely slow cultivation speed, no bottleneck in the world.

But what if there is no bottleneck in the world?

Cultivation speed is extremely slow, it is rubbish.

But when he practiced the Changchun Kungfu, which was only at the ninth level, and broke through to the tenth level and extended his life for another 20 years, he suddenly realized.

It turns out that this is the true world where there is no bottleneck in any method, and any method can break through the limit and continue to practice.

That being the case, one health-preserving exercise is not enough, so I will practice ten!

If ten is not enough, then twenty!

All in all, I want to live forever!

PS: There are already high-definition novels with over 10 million words, “The World Doesn’t Know How Strong I Am” and “The Ferryman in the Yellow Spring”.

- Description from novelbuddy

She, a renowned assassin of the 21st century, actually crossed over to become Su Manor’s most useless good-for-nothing Fourth Miss.

He, Jin Empire’s imperial highness, was an emotionless overbearing demonic tyrant with unrivaled talent.

Everyone knew that she was idiotic and good-for-nothing and bullied her as they pleased. But only he, the overbearing tyrant with the discerning eye, wouldn’t let go of her even if his life depended on it.

For the time being, let’s just see how the stubborn versus stubborn clash and play out in this good show of the chaser and the chased.

The Immortal Emperor, after being betrayed, was reborn as the peasant Luo Yang. He possessed the “Glance” ability, understood medical skills, knew martial arts, and came with a natural flair for showing off.In the long journey of life, everything is inferior; only showing off is supreme. Watch as the little peasant Luo Yang struts his stuff like the wind, ascends with vigor, all with the determination to show off so grandiosely that it tears through the heavens.

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.”