Demon Sect Cultivation: I Can Disable Debuffs - Chapter 149 - : Refusal to Meet the Sect

Qi Condensation. Foundation Establishment. Core Formation. In the current world, only these three realms are known to be achievable. Nascent Soul is but a legend and the realms above it lost to the the long river of time. The modern era is known as Cultivation Civilization, a balance of power and civility, excess and moderation. While cultivation remains a secret practice, it has long since exposed itself to the mundane world, quietly intertwined with each facet of society. While the world appears to be at peace, what lies underneath is a conflict between human, cultivator, and demon, brewing for ages and waiting to implode. Yet in the wake of humanity’s rapid industrialization, qi—and consequently cultivation—is dying.

The demon Sang Jiuchi woke up from a seal and found that he was bound to the Quick Transmigration system, and the characters he took over were all without exception, the worst villains.

Blackmailing the top streamer but ended up killing his own despicable tech genius…

The vicious true young master who framed the fake young master but suffered the consequences…

The murderous master who humiliated his apprentice but was killed…

The sinister mermaid who seduced the general and was slaughtered…

The hypocritical pope who deceived people and was burned at the stake…

- 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.”

Emperor Gabela: Imperial legions are unstoppable on land.

Great Orc Chief: All the warriors of the tribe can count as ten.

Jade Realm Elf King: The forest ranger has never missed a shot.

Chairman of the Horn Bay Alliance: The alliance fleet is the undisputed ruler of the sea.

A mysterious organization: The prophesied era will finally come.

Paul Grayman: I am not targeting anyone. Everyone here is rubbish.

Start the journey of guns and cannons crushing the low-magic plane…

(This is an old-fashioned story about climbing a technological tree in another world to farm for hegemony. The author has limited knowledge and may make some mistakes in technical details. Criticism and corrections are welcome)

- Description from novelbuddy