Logging 10,000 Years into the Future - Chapter 422

Su Mo, a young man of the modern times, transmigrated to the world of martial arts.The sole survivor of the declining Su family, he inherited the Ziyang Escort Agency, a courier service that was on the brink of collapse.Su Mo was determined to restore the family business to its former glory, but he was young and inexperienced. And the martial arts world was fraught with dangers and intrigues!Unexpectedly, a system popped up that rewarded him each time he completed a courier mission.With this reward system, Su Mo entered an unprecedented realm. He mastered the Longxiang Wisdom Divine Skill which transformed his internal Qi and gave him boundless energy and stamina to accomplish his missions.Still, troubles came knocking on his door as he embarked on his missions, from escorting a benign scholar to delivering a mysterious brocade box for a dying man.Could Su Mo avoid getting tangled in other people's affairs? And would he survive the storms and gain a foothold in the treacherous martial arts world?

It is well known that while most Evil Skills can be mastered quickly, they are accompanied by immense side effects. A slight misstep and you could drive yourself insane or get yourself killed.But what if the side effects could be transferred to your enemies? How exhilarating would it be to cultivate Evil Skills then?In any case, Zou Feng, who transmigrated here, is already having the time of his life.The most evil, most venomous, and most morally corrupt Cultivation Skills? Bring them all on.This Poison Skill will make your entire body fester and become unrecognizable? Cultivate it!Cultivating this Skill will cause you to lose your sanity and become worse than a beast? Cultivate it!A Cultivation Skill that ensures you won't live for more than a year upon mastery? Cultivate it!

(I would just like to say that this is not my story and the author of this novel is 千山茶客, Qian Shan Cha Ke)

Crying blood and tears, she pledged a poisonous vow. The gods did not fail her. She was sent back to a decade ago. The legitimate daughter of Jiang family returned from hell.

Forget it, whatever! Since they already claimed that she was a temptress that wrecked the country, she shall overturn the world into complete chaos starting with her beguiling sister, her malicious stepmother, her cruel lover and her heartless family. Let her end the lives that Yama refused to end.

She was a pawn in her past life. In this life, however, the world was her chess board. With an alluring smile and a charming figure that enchanted the entire nation, the red-clothed woman wrecked chaos among the lands. She was a vengeful spirit from hell, determined to make those who wronged her pay in blood.

“I want those who owe me a life debt to hold their hearts out in front of me. I want those who looked down on me to only be able to admire me. I want Lord Zhong Zi to shiver when he sees me. I want to step on this splendid river and mountains!”

— — —

“You are a temptress and I am a thief.” His robe was as dark as the night and his gaze was as cold as the Northern Star. “A perfect match.”

Her red dress was akin to fire, but her heart was the coldest ice in the winter.

He was stoic in his black robe, yet he was willing to warm her frozen heart.

In this life, the elegant man seemed like a snowy bamboo grove with tall, chilly mountains, walking step by step towards her like an unstoppable force.

“Ruan Ruan, if you hate the world, then I shall conquer the lands with you.”

“What if I love the world?” She asked.

“I am the world, so you can only love me,” he answered.

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.”