Era of the transmigrating earth - Chapter 1371: The Ability of the Shadow Spirit Light Ball

We’ve had systems that help the MCs make pills, steal skills from legendary masters, and even be forced to show off to earn points, but what about a system that allows one to run a virtual reality internet cafe, featuring all the classic games?

Our MC awakens in a new world and finds himself with a mysterious system that allows him to run a fully self-sufficient virtual reality internet cafe! What? Opening an internet cafe in a cultivator world? You can now surf the internet, watch dramas, and play video games?!

One Emperor Warrior cried after visiting MC’s shop, “Damn, Blizzard completes my life!”

Another Yuan River Realm cultivator gasped after drinking Sprite, “What is this sorcery?”

What else did the MC bring to the cultivator world? Come join us on this adventure as Fang Qi faces off against cultivation sects and major forces with his collection of modern treasures.

Mo Chou is the no.1 ranking female assassin in an illusive organization. One day on the way to the organization after completing a mission, she dies. She is shocked when reincarnates into her favorite novel but as a villainess who is the protagonist's step sister and dies a miserable death. She just wants to live a cushy and comfortable life so she decides to completely avoid the red flags aka the main characters and live like a saint (well a saint who is an assassin) But why does she keep stumbling into the main characters especially that infuriating villain and why the heck are they clinging onto her?

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.”

“Could you become my daughter?”