Omega Summoner - Chapter 195: Increasing Prices?

Rebirth, wear a little girl, do not have to be noisy, open your eyes and split your home, with a space of spiritual liquid, Lingquan! Make a big profit!

All kinds of essential equipment! However, can you not do so much! The dregs and the mother’s baby are too poor!

Farming must be standard! Can you order less? The environment is not safe! The landlord of the seven disasters is too ‘healing’! Which pro, your good prince is not right, what mess! This is a kind of field text, can’t be a palace! You have fished the world!

- Description from Uukanshu translation

A world with magic, mythical creatures, mystical herbs, labyrinths, and treasures.A world where the strongest adventurers get to be the ones to enjoy fame and riches.A world where various rankings decide your worth.This is the world where Shye Crowley and his sister were born.As the children of two fairly known diamond-ranked adventurers, Shye and his sister, Maia, enjoyed a prosperous lifestyle.Unfortunately, after departing for a mithril-ranked quest in hopes of ranking up, their parents couldn’t return.Years passed and life went downhill fast for the siblings.Fortunately, a fateful encounter bestows him a system that could change their fate.

After the divorce, Gao Jun discovered that the persona of the wealthy single lady had collapsed.“Madam, please stop confessing your feelings to me,” he said.“You know I'm not someone who takes things lightly.”

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.”