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... ssed in pure indulgence, cradled in the arms of exquisite beauties who devoted themselves to his every whim. Their soft whispers, gentle caresses, and eager service ensured his comfort, making the night nothing short of blissful.

Meanwhile, in Dressrosa, Doflamingo was hard at work solidifying his rule. After executing King Riku and seizing the throne under the guise of public demand, he was now pacifying the citizens.

The people, manipulated by his intricate schemes, genuinely b ...

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Here, only those with spiritual roots can cultivate while those with mortal roots are destined to stay mortal.

Mo Wuji only has mortal roots, but will he only remain as a mortal?

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The main character Lei Yu does not have the ability to practice his family’s martial arts. He gets stepped on and tossed around. Due to certain reasons, he leaves the family, coincidentally gains an ability, and makes his own path to becoming an immortal.

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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.”

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The tree he plants behind his house becomes a World Tree after listening to his zither music, forming a bridge between heaven and earth.

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