Online game: God-level Assassin, I Am the Shadow. - Chapter 52 - :Qian Shishi in Modu! Hire Shadow to Kill Qin Feng?!

The Domain Of Gods exists!

For years, Cain searched for ways on his Modern Earth to travel to the world where beings akin to Gods roam about. Nobody believed he could do it, but Cain never gave up.

And after so many arduous years, he finally created the ritual that would transmigrate him to the Domain Of Gods!

When the ritual had actually worked, Cain should've been positively elated. He even managed to transmigrate into the body of a genuine Dragon Prince. But, there was one major problem.

Despite being the grandson of a Dargon God, he had zero cultivation for 18 years of his life!

But, instead of feeling despair or cursing his luck over such a cliche scenario, Cain welcomed this problem with a maddening smile.

Who cares if I have zero cultivation?! I will become a free reign expert no matter the means!

In China’s modern martial arts society, Wu Xinghe was history’s youngest grandmaster of martial arts. He was invincible. Because of a strange incident, he was reincarnated as Qin Wushuang, a poor aristocratic boy in an entirely different world with its own set of rules. With his strong will and passion, he began his journey to pursue the highest peak of martial arts!

Luo Feng, accompanied by the Sector Beast Morosa, had passed through reincarnation and arrived at the Land of Origin....

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”