MTL - Resurrection of Reiki: I Will Win Every Bet - Chapter 290

In the Wild Westlands, the Sanctuary of Spirits is the base for the elite Celestial Beast Sect. “”Hurry, Huang Yingyan, or we’ll lose our chance at the best Divine Pets!”” Tang Jinghuan urges, pulling his friend in a time-critical dash.Huang Yingyan, who overslept from the thrill of gaining a mysterious system and the Omniscient Eye skill, falsely blames his delay on Tang Jinghuan. This skill lets him see the untapped potential in divine pets, essential for aspiring Beastmasters.In their excitement, they reach the selection, where Huang Yingyan’s skill initially finds no special pets—until a unique, snow-white cub draws his attention, neither tiger nor lion, with a somber air.As they face their choices, anticipation hangs thick. Can Huang Yingyan’s skill reveal the cub’s mystery, changing his destiny as a Beastmaster?

Baifeng had signed in Naruto World for three years and reached the sixth level, just when he thought he could finally be salted fish, kick the dance king, and punch Kaguya.

Ding, you have been selected and invited by the Tiantian dimension chat group, do you want to join?

No, no, I’m already at level 6, so I just came to the chat group.

The beautiful monster princess: Although I lost a good chicken, the monster girl is really good.

Dagu is not Dagu: As a partner of justice, it is our duty to maintain the peace of the universe.

I’m your father: Kulala, I’ll show you a hand-torn black beard to cheer you up.

Bai Feng: This chat group is a bit indecent.

- Description from novelbuddy

[Mortal Stream, Family Stream, Farming Stream, Beast Taming Stream, No System]An office worker suddenly found his soul transmigrated to another world, becoming a disciple of a Beast Taming Cultivation family.The story begins with a Cultivation family known as the Zhou Family of Spirit Beasts……

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.”