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... unfortunately he couldn't point it out.

  Du Zhou's eyes darkened, isn't it a coincidence?

  Du Can called him because he knew that he got the Buddha head that day. The thing about lifting the pendant is actually to want this Buddha head.

  When he saw the Buddha's head, he saw the unusual information on it. If he didn't figure out what was going on here, it was absolutely impossible for him to hand over the Buddha's head to anyone.

  To avoid losing the Buddha's head ...

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As Yun Xiao's soul soared into the heavens after his death, he made a startling discovery—the vast world in which he had lived for sixteen years astonishingly resembled a colossal tomb! Beneath it lay an ancient bronze coffin, vast as the boundless seas, radiating an overwhelming miasma. Every piece of land was but a handful of dirt atop this enormous coffin. The billions of living souls unknowingly thrived and multiplied within this graveyard soil.

Inside the massive casket rested the body of an Immortal. His eyes were as deep as the underworld, his mouth reminiscent of the Yellow Springs, his hair flowed like a majestic dragon, and his body spanned across a million mountain ranges. Which celestial deity from ancient times could be resting here for eternity?

Refusing to let himself fade away, Yun Xiao's soul entered the body of the Immortal. With the world's Divine Pillar as his sword and the vast continents as his seals, he and the coffin embark on a journey through the Immortal path, seeking enlightenment and challenging the heavens!

JL: The novel might start out as your bog-standard revenge-plot, reincarnation story. But the execution is solid, and there's plenty of satisfying face-slapping moments throughout. But what makes it really interesting is that the author eventually starts subverting expectations in really interesting ways. So, if you're a long time reader of the community, and want to try something familiar with a refreshing twist, give this story a shot!

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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.”

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“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.

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An Extra is a minor background character with little to no influence on the main story. Their purpose is to fill out scenes and represent the larger world in which the story takes place.Yet,One Extra defied its existence. One Extra destroyed the story.********Luke, an editor, was transmigrated into the story with one goal:“Kill The Extra.”