from the weakest hunter to the strongest SSS rank - Chapter 43 - Forty-Three

Yu Qiu once thought that he could rely on his shixiong forever, but when he was captured by the Shadow Demon, he watched helplessly as his shixiong stepped into the bride room together with a woman.

He knew he was one foot in the grave, powerless to reverse the situation.

After reincarnating, how could he walk the path of seal cultivation again?

Rebel? Vengeance? Revenge? Depend on a loyal dog who would be his shield?

That was too low for him!!!

He was going to:

Break up that haze in front of his eyes and turn it into tall mountains.

No longer depend on anyone, but rely on his own strength for everything.

Make every cultivator never say the words “seal cultivation is only supplementary” ever again.

Become the strongest person in the world.

Show that he will become a Daozhang.

- Description from Novelupdates

Hye lived his entire life without a class. After the apocalypse hit the human world, strange creatures invaded and killed humans while new lands were being added.

Systems were given to humans and with the help of the guides, humans started to fight back for their lives. All of this happened under the watch of the venerable beings who were shining stars in the sky; gods!

Hye dreamt his entire life of a chance to prove himself. He was a hard working, earnestly learning and smart youth. However, the apocalypse never was merciful to such humans at all.

Until one day he got a chance to go back in time, when everything started. At this new starting point, he found himself able to finally obtain what he wanted, a class for himself and power beyond imagination.

But will things be this easy for him?

Hiding in the Cold Palace and eventually becoming a Boss of Sorts. Li Mu was transported to a fantastical world and became a measly eunuch of the State of Xia. Despite having initially thought that his life would be a miserable one, he had unexpectedly acquired a check-in system.

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.”