Beginning with the Ubume Bird - Chapter 171 - 8: Bandit Flames Skyrocketing!

Chu Qing transmigrates to a world where women hold all the power. In this matriarchal society, men are judged solely on their looks, while women are expected to provide for their families. Men are only considered eligible for marriage if they have good virtues, while women must possess a house and a car to be considered desirable. Even worse, women who are financially supported by men are accused of being freeloaders, and some women are known to prey on younger men.

As the “school belle,” Chu Qing is frustrated by these rigid social norms. He believes that a man’s true worth comes from inner strength and character, not just physical appearance. With his ability to cultivate immortality, he sets out to prove that men can be powerful and valuable in their own right, challenging the status quo in this matriarchal society!

Dear readers! Fresh green style, maybe you will like it more in .

The live show, Survive in Wilderness was a hit.

There were thousands of participants in the game show. They would all start by parachuting from a plane and land randomly in a primary forest.

The participants would have to rely only on a backpack, a water bottle, and a dagger to survive.

Yu Beier was only eight years old when he joined the game show so that he could buy the cure for his ill mother with the prize money. He was the youngest to have ever participated, and he had accidentally woken up a wilderness survival system.

[Ding! You have received the Wilderness Survival 101 Pack!]

[Ding! You have received Max-leveled Hunting Skill!]

[Ding! You have received Max-leveled Building Skill!]

[Ding! You have received Max-leveled Swing Skill!]

…

When the show started, the viewers were utterly shocked. From climbing the tallest mountain to crossing the ocean, conquering the forest and swamp, and managing an island, there was nothing that Yu Beier could not do.

“Dude! That eight-year-old boy is living a much more interesting life than us!”

“Yu Beier is the apex among men!”

“Whenever I see his stream, it feels like I’ve just lived an extra life!”

One day, Fang Jueyu was called into the study by his parents.Fang Father: “Son, you've turned 20 this year, and it's time to tell you some things!”Fang Jueyu: “What is it? You're not going to suddenly tell me you're a wealthy man, are you?”Fang Father is surprised: “You already know?”Fang Jueyu: “What? Really? I was just saying that.”Fang Father: “However, that's not the point. Today, I am going to pass on our family's heirloom that has been handed down from generation to generation to you!”From then on, Fang Jueyu's life underwent a dramatic change.What? You want to talk to me about antiques and calligraphy paintings? Do you want Wang Xizhi's calligraphy or Zheng Banqiao's paintings? Oh, right, Van Gogh even gifted my great-great-great-grandfather a painting!Why, you ask? Because it was my ancestors who funded their education!You want to talk to me about sports cars? Are you talking about Lamborghini, Ferrari, or the Bugatti Veyron? I hold shares in those companies, and I'm even the largest shareholder!What? Your family owns a mine? Sorry, but many of the gold and diamond mines in Africa are ours too!

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.”