Dual Cultivation God Returns - Chapter 155 (R18) Swallowing him whole

Her – a glutton without troubles or worries who crossed over and became a young fat chick with a deep vengefulness.

Him – a young master of the number one power; a two-faced man with elegance and charming, good looks; he is the chosen one of the former saint god and a man who will only bend his back for her alone.

This domineering crossover’s slogan is, ‘Don’t touch if it is this sister’s, put it there if it isn’t this sister’s!’

…watch how the Domineering Glutton and the Two-Faced Venerate Emperor create sparks as they meet and collide, stirring the whole Spirit Treasure Continent into turmoil, how they fall for each other and how they kill each other, how life and death severs love.

- Description from Novelupdates

From [Running], to the physics-defying [Godspeed].From [Aiming], to the causality-transcending [Bullseye].From [Health Cultivation], to the everlasting [Immortality] among men.From [Fitness], to the flesh-ascending [Turning into a Dragon].Having been reborn, Xue Jing, after gaining a panel that infinitely enhances skills, set a minor goal for himself.In this dangerous world filled with martial artists, Blessed Ones, and Transformed People, he aimed to rise above all merely with his mortal flesh and blood—to become the supreme deity among men.

【Explosive Fantasy, Exhilarating Fiction】He had been beaten by his father into a cripple and kicked out of his home, yet he was the most badass genius in history. The Empress of the Divine World? She’s my woman! The Great Lord of the Demon World? He’s my disciple! The Dragon God of the Demon Realm? He’s my mount! Those who mess with Xu Nian will die! Those who touch Xu Nian’s Forbidden Lamella will wish they were dead!

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.”