Suppressing the Protagonist at the Start to Seize the Heroine - Chapter 14 - Changed His Target Again

As the head disciple of the number one sect in the world, Luo Jianqing had a brilliant reputation. He was the most respected senior brother of his junior brothers and sisters: the last disciple of the cultivation world’s number one cultivator, Luo Jianqing greatly respected his master’s teachings, not crossing his limits by even half a step.

Afterwards…… he was stabbed to death just like that by the main character with his sword. His master’s sword.
Luo Jianqing: “……”
The heavens wants me dead, yet I refuse to die! See if the will of the heavens is more fearsome, or if the will of my sword is more stubborn!

Wu Yin: “Jianqing, I have something to say to you.”
Luo Jianqing: “Master, I also have something to say to you.”
Wu Yin: “… you speak first?”
Luo Jianqing: “You speak first.”
Wu Yin: “I like you.” / Luo Jianqing: “I want to top you.”
Wu Yin: “……”

- Description from Novelupdates

Demon pets, demon soldiers, and demon warriors.

In this bizarre world where everything can be a partner, Du Yu looked at Qian Zhihe with wings flapping in his palm, and couldn’t help falling into deep thought.

Did she just say…she is from the Golden Crow?

…

Easy and funny, welcome to the pit.

The works “Nine Stars Poisonous Milk” and “The Lord of Nine Stars” have been completed, and you are welcome to read them.

…

- Description from novelbuddy

Xiao Qingrong had no mother and no father. With his own ability, he climbed to the peak of life, then encountered a system who could shuttle him across time and space. “Do you want to become a male god?”

He turned into a 17-year old, weak chicken with two years left in prison, Xiao Qingrong coldly interrogated the system. The system, playing dead, threw a powerful pill.

#In short, this Male God always threatens his Super Male God System#

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.”