Lord Zhang Fei - Chapter 403 - Monsters’ Paradise [I]

Ling Lang is thirty-two years old and an A list movie star. He is also the youngest to become the king of the silver screen. Known for having a cold and aloof disposition, people nicknamed him king iceberg of the silver screen. His biggest secret? He is a masochist down to his very bones.

- Description from Novelupdates

Wake up to Marvel and become a latitude demon between existence and non-existence. In order to disrupt the real dimension, the nihilistic demon summoned players from the unknown dimension!

In New York City, [Black Hand Wallon] re-enacts the shocking heist, this time targeting the playboys of Stark Industries!

Hell’s Kitchen has opened a new home [Xinhei Dingjiu], and at the same time [Dark Cooking World] is trying to control the world with taste!

Jinbian ushered in a new enemy, and the Italian “evil” party named [New Pengliel Family] is expanding step by step!

[Miko Kikyo] living on the street met the fearless people of Hell’s Kitchen. While investigating the lost shadow case, what kind of sparks could they create!

- Description from novelbuddy

In times of peril, the overlooked Ninth Prince, Qin Wudao, steps up to hold the collapsing empire together, commands the six armies, carries out the sealing ceremony, and establishes an era of abundant prosperity.“Ding, congratulations, the check-in system is now in place!”Once awakened, the world becomes aware, who does not recognize this sovereign?

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.”