Era of Players: Death God - Chapter 118: End of the Fight

Qiao Zhiya is a hybrid. Before he was born, his elf father wanted him to have a strong physique unique to dwarfs; his dwarf mother wanted him to have a tall body unique to elves. And then he was born, his features delicate and beautiful, his body weak and thin… his strength at the peak of the dwarfs!

Then he crossed. With his beloved little hammer, we walk along females-who-is-as-tall-as-he-is and male-who-is-a-head-taller-than-him-on-average future… blue, thin mushroom wants to go home.

Chu Rong: picked up a small dwarf who always wants to run away. Its cute, wanna drag home.

Qiao Zhiya: ??? Mama, there’s a pervert!

- Description from Novelupdates

I want Hollywood to be the Hollywood I want – Lancelot Strelow
His life was full of ups and downs, rebellious, and brilliant. No one can deny his excellence. With hundreds of millions of box office in his left hand and countless trophies in his right, even the most critical film critics have to lower their heads, let alone It is said that countless movie fans all over the world worship him, leaving an indelible mark in this era.
But, he is a bastard.
He is a complete jerk, he relies on Hollywood to become famous, but he is a rebel in Hollywood, his disgusting personality makes him the public enemy of the entire Hollywood, he unscrupulously impacts everyone’s bottom line, and he stimulates everyone unrestrainedly With his nerves, he lightly challenged everyone’s authority, and his unrestrained talent was like a nightmare from which he would never wake up. However, no one could refuse him.
You can only avoid falling in love with him if you completely loathe him – The New York Times

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”

A relentless young man, a shadow of a dragon soul sword, a legendary immortal saga.Who will be the peak in the battle for imperial supremacy, only I, Lin Xuan, despise all living!