Touchline Rebirth: From Game To Glory - Chapter 16: A New Beginning

An unknown disciple from a small sect battling against the strongest in the cultivation world! The long journey working at cultivation, the realization of destiny and the chance to reach the apex of the world.

Some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them. Zuo Mo is a zombie faced low level cultivator in a minor sect of a little world. Ever since he was picked up by the sect leader two years ago, he has no memories of his earlier life except a recurring nightmare. Navigating the rigid class structure and intricacies of the cultivation world, as one of the lowest possible of the lowest class, Zuo Mo’s dream is to earn money, and lots of it, through being a spiritual plant farmer.

A chance occurrence reveals that someone powerful had changed Zuo’s features and erased his mind. The money grubbing zombie decides to set out on a journey of cultivation to find out answers. Fate colludes with chance, the drums of war are beating, the ghost of his past is coming… …

- Description from novelupdates

Zhou Xu, an interstellar military counselor, was selected by the “will not die in peace” system, and as a result, even though he had a great fear of pain, began his journey as villain, forced to die a terrible death over and over again. Zhou Xu, after going through a hundred worlds and dying a hundred times, finally changed. He wanted to retaliate!

***Together, they were like fire and ice.***Damon pursued, ready to conquer while Alexander ran, trying so hard to remain cold and guarded.Alexander had thought guarding the sick crown prince was something so easy until he found himself cruelly yet so innocently tempted.***excerpt***“You will stay the hell away from me.” Alexander threatened, his voice hard and tortured as he tried to recover from his emotional rollercoaster.“Oh really?” Damon drawled as he held up a wine glass to his lips, taking a sip as his eyes looked at the man that was standing quite a distance from him, ready to bolt.“Yes and I mean it your highness.” Alexander replied and he watched the mischievous gleam that entered the prince's clear blue eyes that were quite a welcome compliment to his thick silver hair.“Alright.” he relented and Alexander blinked, surprised but his relief lasted for seconds.“We will see how far you can run my honorable knight. Oh and just so you know, I love a good chase.” Damon assured and it didn't take Alexander ages to know that he had close to no winning chance when it came to this one man.Oh yes, he was doomed...so sweetly doomed.......Hey guys, I have decided to try writing something new, a genre I haven't tried before but one that I find interesting enough to explore.This book is a romance BL novel and if you are one that likes the genre or loves to try new things, please don't hesitate to try out my new book.Also, feel free to check out my other novel...The heiress's revenge: A rise from the ashes.Thank you!

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.”