Please, Young Master, Slay the Demon! - Chapter 60 - I dont believe he will come every day_1

I transmigrated to the Great Qin empire to find myself a famous good-for-nothing in Ye Manor and the subject of ridicule of everyone. But thankfully, my dantian is the planet Earth.

When the Earthlings cultivate and comprehend anything, it will also turn into my own cultivation and comprehension. Each time one more Earthling reaches First Honor Inborn Level, I’d be able to add on the strength of an First Honor Inborn Level to my own strength.

There are 1.4 billion people on this Earth. I’ve hit jackpot.

Li Yao, a retired assassin, woke up one day to find herself transmigrated to ancient times and became a famous shrew far and wide.

With hands on her hips, she wailed loudly. Villagers called her the bane of ghosts, and even dogs would circle around when they saw her.

She had four children, her husband had passed away, and it was a disastrous year, leaving them poor as church mice.

Fortunately, River Bay Village was nestled against a big mountain, with wild chickens, wild boars, wolves, tigers, herbs, spices, corn, sweet potatoes, potatoes… it seemed to have everything.

Rely on the water to eat, and rely on the mountain.

With her skills that exceeded the times, Yao Li quickly became the wealthiest person in River Bay Village.

She was determined to stick to her original aspirations – retire and live out her remaining years in peace.

But as a widow, there were many things at her doorstep.

Her maiden family coveted her wealth; local ruffians lusted after her beauty; the magistrate admired her talents; the prefect wanted to rely on her to build up his political achievements; the scholar admired her literary talent; the chancellor respected her breadth of knowledge…

Wave after wave, wearing down her doorstep.

Even a Prince was amazed by her, finding all kinds of excuses to frequently visit and neglect his palaces.

Li Yao adapted to the circumstances, sparring back and forth, just wishing her retirement life would remain undisturbed.

But unknowingly, the world was changing because of her.

Within the dream of the dreamer, the one who was dreamed of awoke.

… Borges

“I exist in the sunlight, the wind, between the heavens and the earth, and also in dreams.”

One night, Yu Hao, a college student who was at his wits’ end had an unexpected encounter with a mysterious visitor – “General” – who had dream travelled. He led Yu Hao in solving the countless riddles that abounded in the realm of the conscious, and lit up the fire beacons on the meandering Great Wall.

Thereafter, the darkness retreated, the sun rose, and when the long night was thoroughly lit up, the him who existed in reality was reborn.

The black dragon that roared, the lighthouse and demonic eye on the coastline, the rain forest before Chichén Itzá, the fierce beasts that wreaked havoc in the Colosseum…the bizarre projection of reality in one’s consciousness reflected the hidden place that the sunlight in reality couldn’t touch – the innumerable sins of the human heart.

The journey of seizing dreams continues, and one can only hope that the sun will continue illuminating the human heart.

…

Fire beacons on the Great Wall were lit up to signal a border invasion.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”