My Hubby Can't Stop Pampering Me - Chapter 519 - 521 Disturbance (3)

The Descent of the Dragon Tower.A young man refines the nine Dragon Emperors, cultivates the invincible Dragon Body of eternal glory.Slays the emperors of myriad heavens, gods, and demons alike, defying gods and Buddhas.Invincible across nine thousand realms!

Mysterious gates appeared all around the world a few decades ago. Beings emerged from the gates and brought disaster upon humanity. Humanity called them Demon Spirits. It wasn’t until the advent of Demon Suits and Demon Suiters that humans stood a fighting chance.For some perplexing reason, the world’s number one Demon Suiter, Li “God” Xiu abandons his identity to start over again as a newbie trial-taker. He enters the gates to participate in all sorts of trials, in a bid to seek out the reason that enticed his best friend into becoming a trial-taker.These trials weren't the run-of-the-mill dungeons, ranging from game sports (soccer, basketball, baseball, etc) to athletics. Just as fortune favors the brave, what would Li Xiu obtain on his quest?“Are you telling me he’s a greenhorn?” the other trial-takers frustratingly ask while watching Li Xiu's feats that prove why he's the number one Demon Suiter.

The world had started doomsday, and I struggled for a year, before I died under an enchanted beast’s claw. Heaven has given me another chance, back a day before the end happen. Will I be able to change my fate, and that of my loved ones? Now, I will start my journey on becoming the strongest on the planet that the Gods have changed into a game world.

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.”