MTL - A Necromancer Who Just Wants to Plant Trees - Chapter 168 Spiritual Touch Hall and Huang Yulong

The top assassin of the Z country has been reborn as Gu Ningyue, the eldest lady of a prominent family. Due to her inability to discern people, she was framed as mentally ill by the child of her father’s mistress, believing them to be her own sister. This same person then seduces her fiancé, and on her birthday, offers her a cup of poisoned wine, sending her to the afterlife.Ha! A mental patient? In debt by tens of millions? With a bad hand dealt to her, let’s see how she tramples on scumbags and shameless women while seizing control of the family!However, this powerful figure? I’m only clinging on for convenience — why are you still hanging on to me?

Arthur Reynolds lived as a quiet, compassionate soul who loved to read and workout in his spare time, sacrificed himself to save his family, trading his own life for theirs.In death, his journey was far from over. Reborn into the mystical world of Sylvara as Raegar Blackwood, he discovers a land teeming with Aether, prestigious magic academies, perilous dungeons, and fearsome monsters.Join Raegar as he learns how to harnass his Fusion Magic to become a legend in the making. Witness him conquer dungeons, win tournements and become the strongest.

Hello, my name is Hespera, and I am a psychopath or at least that is what all my doctors kept saying... and the god of reincarnation. He and the primordial of Chaos were quite the amusing duo. Oh, did I mention that I am also the first (and last) family member of Chaos. Yeah, that surprised me too. Apparently becoming a Blessed isn't easy.Anyway, I'm about to head out to my... hmm, fifth world? Or was it the sixth? Oh drat, I lost count! Well, whatever. It was lovely meeting you strange person from behind the screen. Please enjoy my life as-Girls! Stop groping me~

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.”