Dragon Genesis: I Can Create Dragons - Chapter 186: She started it first!

“Uncle, I was punished for being late! ” “Buy the school. ”

“Uncle, I was bullied! ” “SEND THEM TO HEAVEN! ”

In this era of competing for fathers, Qin Sheng never competed for fathers. Those things were too extravagant. She didn’t have them, she only competed for uncles!

Ever since she had a rich uncle, she lived a life of fighting and being cleaned up by others, causing trouble and being scapegoated by others.

Her three big goals in life were to make him fall in love with her, fall in love with her, fall in love with her!

What to expect:A long epic progression fantasy with south asian/indian cultivation elements. Lots of action, strong worldbuilding, and a planned story. People die, but no excessive grimdark content. No murderhobo MC. No edgy or whiny or anti-hero MC. No pacifist MC.Cute canine companion

99 is one, and nine refinements are returned to Xian.

A young town boy, stepping on Xiuxian Road, is not a family, no gold fingers, with his own determination and wisdom, the nine major cultivation system, the nine realms step by step to the peak, and finally ninety-nine one, the achievement of true immortal.

- Description from Uukanshu translation

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.”