Rebirth Space Pretty Girl - Chapter 3010: go to future academy

In a world far more dangerous than the one he once read about, Nero Ravenclaw is reborn as the heir to Rowena Ravenclaw’s legendary bloodline. Armed with knowledge of the books and a mind sharpened by experience, he quickly realizes that this isn’t the same Harry Potter universe.It’s darker, deeper, and filled with wizards far more powerful than he ever imagined.Determined to carve his own path, Nero seeks to reach the apex of the magical world. As he unearths the secrets of the founders, navigates political intrigue, and clashes with forces both known and unknown, he must forge his strength to survive.With new ranks of wizards, powerful bloodline abilities, ancient magic, and a reimagined magical system, this is the untold story of a Ravenclaw who refuses to be bound by destiny.The wizarding world is far greater than anyone imagined.And Nero intends to claim his place within it.Disclaimer : I don't own Harry Potter or its characters (except the original characters I create).

A door unfolded before him.Evil thrived, and whispers spilled from within.The resentful compound eyes flickered and vanished, the presence longing to burst out was blocked inside, and the alluring murmurs echoed in the ear.The sticky, pink brain mumbled something. A figure cloaked in a yellow robe watched from a distance. A dark green presence, smelling of blood, roared. A string of wondrous soap bubbles released friendliness—and many, many guests.They sincerely invited Lu Li to join this mad party.Lu Li stepped in, his stride resolute and unwavering.He had no reason to refuse.

When Qin Yan was five years old, she left the capital with her mother and went to the Pingxi Army under the command of her grandfather, Duke of Zhenguo, in the Northwest. When she returned twelve years later, things were different.

After the mother was attacked and disappeared, everyone in the Prime Minister Mansion only knew of Concubine Song, but not her mother, the honorable mistress. They only knew that there was only one Miss Nian in the mansion, and they did not know that there was also her, the only eldest young lady of the first wife.

The concubine took over her mother’s dowry and pretended to be rich and generous to win people’s hearts. The concubine-born younger sister, with the identity that belongs to Qin Yan, was mixed up like a fish in water in the circle of noble daughters in the capital, and she also intended to get involved with Qin Yan’s fiancé.

The people in Prime Minister Mansion thought that Qin Yan could only be at their mercy when she returned to the capital alone. However, they never thought that within a few days of returning to the capital, Qin Yan was granted the title of Princess of Zhaoren by the emperor and given a palace as the Princess Mansion.

When Qin Yan took back the dowry that belonged to her mother, only then did her father Prime Minister Qin and Concubine Song knew that Qin Yan was the owner of Yu Qingfeng, the first bank in Great Xia.

The City Master of Gu City, an important town outside the Northwest Pass, was known as the owner of Yu Qingfeng, the first bank in Great Xia which claimed to be able to reach half the national treasury.

How many secrets have not been uncovered on Qin Yan?

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”