MTL - My Brother is a Big Shot - Chapter 122 system brother 1

[Have you become more learned today?][Accounting for the capacity of your brain, your study efficiency has been increased to 28 times that of normal.][The remaining amount of energy you have for studying today, 26 hours.][You will enter an exhausted state when your energy is depleted and be unable to obtain new information.][Please relax by using the functions within the system and restore your energy as soon as possible.]With limited energy and the onset of fatigue, the Study Monster had no time to think too much--papers to come!Had the heavens not grant me this system, the unending sea of knowledge would seem like a long night.

“He” was originally a weak and pitiful “sissy”. Once reborn, he became an ancient martial arts genius with both medicine and poison. The national male god.

Don’t touch anyone who belongs to her, and she will hold what is not her, and she will never be merciless when she abuses scum and face.

He is a business genius who covers the sky with one hand in Huaguo. He has a dark belly and is decisive in killing. He is the only one who turns into a loyal dog in front of her.

She kills, he sets fire. She poisoned, he silenced.

One day, the pampered and lawless Lu Xingchen said in disgust, “Brother, they all say you are my dog.”

- Description from novelbuddy

Asher, after trillions of years of cultivation from an ordinary human in a small world, he managed to transcend universes with countless galaxies, then transcended the Great Universe with countless universes and then reached the peak in the Infinite Void, becoming one of the most feared experts.How was his life as a peak cultivator often the end of a story?Follow his journey as he explores the Infinite Void and helps countless geniuses in the Great Universes.***(Everything written in this novel is fiction!)

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.”