The First Evolution - Chapter 574: Return to Watchfort

Civilizations change and the era restarts.

The world returned to the age of steel and steam is full of chaos, madness, twist and evil.

Among them, a group of sorcerers called truth followers have done all their bad things.

They sacrificed to evil gods, besieged the Pope, assassinated the emperor, and even provoked the First World War…

All of this had nothing to do with the transmigrator Melon. When the world was in turmoil, he was the one who squatted aside and watched the show.

Until one day, this group of people came to him and insisted on recognizing him as the leader, and also said that he was the son of destiny. Everything they did before was because they followed his instructions…

- Description from novelbuddy

30 year old Lu Ziwen was born in poverty and after struggling for a lifetime, he is finally able to perform in the Golden Hall symbolizing the highest honor. However, an hour before taking the stage, he was killed by his lover.

With eyes opened once more, he was unexpectedly born again in the body of the fallen star Qi Mu!

Who controls the world with notes?

Who is the king of the classics?

Qi Mu: I’ve conquered you; I am the king of classical music!

Min Chen: … As long as you are happy.

This is a story of a reborn violinist, vengeance, struggling for the top, and dominating the world of classical music!

- Description from Novelupdates

He rescued her. It took him eight years to pamper her into the most beautiful woman in the city. Anyone who dared to lay a finger on her would die!

Little did he know, she had long set his sights on him. She considered him as her possession. Did someone look at her man? It didn’t matter if the person was a man or a woman. She’d torture them in the most horrible way possible! However, to her surprise…

“Are you done playing?” He forced her into a corner. That’s when she found out that he’d known all along…

Dear readers! Fresh green style, maybe you will like it more in .

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.”