Drawing Cards With My Lifespan: Starting By Gamifying Reality - Chapter 501 - Law Crystal General Lu Yuan_1

Lin Wanwan is a pitiful mentally-disabled girl. Not only does she suffer abuse from her stepmother, her stepmother even attempts to use her as a sexual commodity to pleasure others. Eventually, the poor Wanwan dies from an overdose…

After thousands of years of silence, the world of cultivation once again welcomed the golden age.

The waves ripple around me,calling me in a whisper,Into the deepest part of the ocean.As I walk on the soft sand,the water sweeps over my feet,surrounding where I stand,giving me the sweetest sensation.Oh ocean,why do I feel so attracted to you?Why do I feel the tickling of your whispers?As it causes cold shivers down my spine.I could hear your gentle lullaby,It roars like a lion, yet so steady and honestJust like a refined diamond.Oh, sea, why do you call my name in a whisper?Caressing waves upon the shore,Once again you beckon me.Why do you show yourself at my doorstep?Why do I feel your presence everywhere I go?Why do you call me so desperately?I want to know, cause when the sea calls?Who will answer?

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.”