I Am Cultivating in the Apocalypse - Chapter 405: Tracking

Married for four years, there was no love in the life of Su Ran and Song Ting Yu. They were forced to marry because of Su Ran’s pregnancy. Ting Yu thought Su Ran was a foxy woman that tricked him with a purpose to enter the Song household, that’s why after the night after they both said the wedding vow, he immediately went overseas to be with his love and never came back even once​ to see his son.

Four years later, Song Wei Xi, the son of Su Ran and Song Ting Yu, was diagnosed with a rare illness. Madame Song, Ting Yu’s grandmother, knew this situation was urgent and asked Song Ting Yu to come home to help with this situation. Song Ting Yu couldn’t help but come back home, he came back to face his forgotten wife and child. Su Ran promised Ting Yu that she will sign the divorce paper if he agreed​ to help. Will Song Ting Yu agree with this proposal? Will he still leave after the recovery of Song We Xi or will he stay? Will love start to grow in their family?

Beneath the daily routine, at the end of rationality, outside the world you are familiar with – there is a landscape you have never imagined.When Yu Sheng opened the door for the first time, the world he was familiar with collapsed.And the “truth” that goes straight to the root of the world came to him.

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.”

This is the story of a young slave gladiator in an underground arena. He doesn’t know about his past or how he got to where he is, only that his name is Aegir, and that he is strong.