Returner Fantasy - Chapter 21: Kim and Alex

Emperor Zi Yu used 5 strikes of his axe to split mountains and unify everyone underneath the heavens. He partitioned the land into 9 areas, thus establishing the Nine Cauldrons which eventually became known as the 9 prefectures.

What happens when a 20-year-old ordinary young man transmigrates into America with a daily sign-in system, that gives rewards from most insignificant things like chewing gums, noodles to priceless things like shares of top companies, talents, future news etc...Follow how this young man slowly but step by step conquers the......“Maate! Wait, stop, stop, time out, time out.My goal is to live a leisurely and carefree life. Why should I do the thankless job of conquering the world?Shouldn't I spend that time flirting around with beauties or trying new foods and cultures? ““In my last life, I died as a single dog, and in this life, I finally became a rich 2nd generation and got a system, shouldn't I enjoy it? “Shut up! Stop him, and make him shut up! ahem… so, where we were… Yes!But can he truly achieve his dream of a carefree life amidst the treacherous world of business with high-stakes investment and the dazzling entertainment industry?Witness his rise to legendary status, as he becomes a godfather of investment and a titan of entertainment.He only wanted a carefree life, but how did he end up as the most powerful and richest man in the world?

Wang Tianxiao was reborn thirty years ago, the day before the eldest son was born.

It was more than 20 degrees below zero, and the wife shivered on the cold kang with her big belly and three-year-old daughter in her arms.

In the pot, there was no firewood to be seen, and the bottom of the water tank was solidly frozen.

What a difficult start.

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- 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.”