Clan Cultivation: Starting from Beast Taming - Chapter 140 - 103: Three Years of Change, Underground Auction [Subscribe now]

Extras die every day in various ways in the game [Yo-Ma Great War 3].

Martin was a succubus who perished at the hands of the Sun God, struck down by a single divine arrow during the epic war between gods and demons. Meanwhile, Martin, a Ph.D. in literature and a seasoned movie enthusiast, lost his life in a car accident in August 2023. By some cosmic twist of fate, the souls of the two Martins converged within the chaotic currents of time and space, merging and eventually settling in the body of an eleven-year-old boy named Martin Myers, living in Los Angeles in 1996.A world without spiritual energy? Fortunately, as a succubus, I don’t need spiritual energy to cultivate; all I need is the essence of desire. Emotions—joy, anger, sorrow, and excitement—are all desires. As long as these emotions are directed at me, they can become fuel for my growth. Alright, let’s see what reliable ways exist in this world to stir people’s emotions en masse. Hmm, becoming a writer—sounds promising; and music, that could work too; but wow, Hollywood movies! They have a global reach; this is perfect! What’s that term again? Right—“Idea Recycler.” I’ll start with writing, but the ultimate goal is to become an international movie star. Acting skills, you say? Don’t worry—I’m a succubus, after all!Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to this novel. All characters, settings, and plot elements belong to the original author and copyright holder. This work is shared purely for entertainment purposes, with no intent to infringe on the original creator’s rights.

All humans transmigrated to a parallel world, where every one of them was a king with the territory.

They participated in a game called The Ranking of Kings and fought to become the best nation.

The rankings were determined based on various aspects such as military, technology, commerce, culture, and religion.

In the game, the kings would awaken different attributes of the land.

Someone exclaimed, “My Renewable Resources attribute allows me to enhance raw materials such as timber and minerals. I want to build the strongest empire of commerce!”

Another king challenged, “My King of the Undead attribute allows me to summon dead souls to fight for me. Who dares to stand in the way of my troops of one million undead?”

The third king declared, “My Integrated Production attribute will ensure that technology is being implemented efficiently. You foolish barbarians, watch as my nation advances a few centuries ahead of yours.”

The fourth king said, “My Miracle Summon attribute can increase the efficiency of evangelism by 1000%. I look forward to the day when my nation becomes the top religion in the world.”

…

Li Xiang revealed a pondering look as he looked at his attributes shown on the virtual data panel.

[Attribute 1: Devils’ Den (SSS rank, unique)]

[You acquired the original birthplace of the Dragon Clan. All the legendary dragons are now under your command.]

[Attribute 2: Devouring Lands (currently A rank, evolvable)]

[When you annex the territory of other kings, you seize their attributes as well. Furthermore, you can level up these attributes to even higher ranks.]

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.”