No Cheat in Bleach ? Watch me help Aizen then. - Chapter 96: The Battle’s Only Just Begun, Gin

Her grandfather was the emperor’s respected teacher, with disciples all over the world.

Her mother was well-read in poetry since childhood and was the most talented woman in the previous dynasty.

Her father started from nothing and gained the emperor’s favor, rising to Minister of Personnel.

Li Mingwei was an unrivaled noblewoman in the capital city.

A mistaken marriage let her see through worldly affairs. She fled the hustle and bustle and returned to live in her countryside residence, choosing a different kind of life.

By the side of the blue stone road, that person had stood still for a long time. He held an umbrella and reached out a hand to her.

In an imposing mortal world where the Divine Nine and Terrestrial Ten immortal sects exist…

The world is beautiful and full of temptations, but cultivators ignore them and happily work toward becoming immortals.

When Chu Liang opened his eyes, he found he had become a disciple of the Mount Shu Sect and even possessed a wondrous treasured pagoda... Henceforth, he embarked on a path that he had never envisioned before.

As the morning mist rises over Mount Shu’s thirty-six peaks, what’s Chu Liang doing?

He’s slaying dragons eight thousand li away!

…

“Please, young noble, slay the monsters!”

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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.”

The entire globe has transmigrated overnight!