MTL - Reborned as an Orphan Girl With a Spatial Pocket! - Chapter 11 Reborn Orphan (5)

Li Hao: What? Someone jailbreak? Huh? Why is there an exclamation mark on the reward notice?

[Click on this reward notice to get the location information of the jailbreaker~]

Li Hao: There is an exclamation mark on this scratch pad?

[Scratch this card and you will win a prize, don’t miss it~]

Li Hao: There is actually a question mark on this box of pills?

[This is a box of life-saving pills, which can save the life of an old man. The host can receive the task and go to a fixed location… and you will get an unexpected surprise~ Do you want to receive the task? Yes! no! 】

Li Hao: Can you still receive the mission? Eh…that person also has an exclamation point? Huh? This dog actually has hints~

[Ding dong, congratulations to the host, for completing the task, you will be rewarded with a villa worth tens of millions…]

[Ding dong, congratulations to the host, complete the task, reward a Bugatti Veyron…]

- Description from novelbuddy

To sum up in a sentence, *slag men **washing white daily, transmigrating to different worlds to wash white, and the goal is to become a good man!

Note:
*Slag men refer to men who play with women’s hearts aka scum.
**Washing white means to come clean, fix up your life.

- Description from Novelupdates

“The Energy Accepting Spell has awakened,” a mysterious voice alerts Ji Fu, causing a surge of confusion and hunger.

Waking in an unfamiliar yet strangely familiar world, Ji Fu discovers he’s transmigrated into a modern martial arts universe, complete with advanced technology and fierce beasts.

Here, he’s a high school student and an orphan, just like his previous life, but with a twist—he’s brought along a cheat system from his former world that enables automatic martial arts cultivation.

What unforeseen challenges await him in this world where martial arts reign supreme?

……………………………………………………………

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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.”