My Blood Legacy: Reincarnated as a Vampire - Chapter 408 Welcome to the group

An intoxicated An Xiaoyu boldly places her hands on her hips: “Hey, handsome, this girl is here to rob you. This road is opened by me, this tree is planted by me, if you want to cross, leave some toll money!”The man approaches aggressively, trapping An Xiaoyu against the wall with no escape.He whispers in her ear: “Money, I have none. How about offering yourself instead?”An Xiaoyu is completely dumbfounded.She just accidentally robbed the wrong person, and now he's haunting her?What? He wants her to take responsibility?“Handsome, a forced melon is not sweet!”“No worries, I like bitter melons!”“You, shameless!”“Can't have a wife with too much pride!”“……”An Xiaoyu: “God, please let me go!”Ahem, 1v1 sweet romance + love over time, guaranteed to make you laugh until you have abs!

The world I transmigrated into was a dark fantasy game universe, devoid of hope or dreams.Doesn’t feel like it at all, though.

When he woke up, Lin You found that the world had changed drastically.

Monsters of all races roar and bombard wildly, field magic cards form a deep sea out of thin air, royal tombs, skyscrapers, and trap cards are infinitely possible.

Duellist colleges and universities all over the country are rising, and the miracle secret realm is full of dangers.

This is a world where all people chase cards, and the era of card duelists shines.

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”