Release that Man - Chapter 486 - Not Even a Hug

Cao Ju, after transmigrating to the end of the Han Dynasty, became Cao Cao’s eighth son.Starting from the rescue of the dying Han noble, Xun Lingjun, who was given an “empty food box”, he embarked on a path to contend with the other sons of the Cao family and vie for supremacy against the Sun and Liu clans.However, a practical problem lay before Cao Ju:Cao Pi inherited Cao Cao’s cunning!Cao Zhang inherited Cao Cao’s valor!Cao Zhi inherited Cao Cao’s talent!Cao Chong inherited Cao Cao’s wisdom!When it came to him, what could he inherit from Cao Cao?Could it be that he would truly descend to inheriting the remaining hobbies of Cao Cao, actively promoting the martial spirit of Wei, and making contributions far and wide?Daqiao and Xiaoqiao: If the young lord arrives in Jiangdong, we two are willing to form a bond with the young lord and welcome him together!Cao Ju: You all may question the character of my old Cao family, but you absolutely cannot insult the aesthetic sense of the Cao family!Cao Cao: The eighth one like me can indeed carry on the family legacy!

Ye Xiwen was previously only an ordinary university student on Earth, but unexpectedly crossed through into the world known as the Zhen Wu Jie world! In this world, formidable warriors are capable of turning over mountains and collapsing the ocean, destroying the sky and extinguishing the earth! He originally had ordinary aptitude, because of that he received the mysterious special space! Any martial art can be deduced within the mysterious space, other people practice for decades, he only needs a year! So long as he has enough spirit stones, any talents he faces are all floating clouds!

- 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.”

We are born free; yet, why do the deities and Buddhas claim supremacy!Bodhisattva, Buddha, Deity? ... I shall wipe out all your Divine Souls!If the heavens obstruct me, I will shatter these heavens; if the earth obstructs me, I will crush this earth!Tathagata, today you must return to me—five hundred years!...