Taiyi Dao Fruit - Chapter 392 - 110: True Body of Lawless Freedom

[Farming]+[Space]+[Heartwarming]+[Prosperity]+[Defeating Scum]Mo Yan, reduced to ashes by an explosion, was reborn in ancient times,becoming a little farm girl on the run from famine!Above her, a kind and handsome Scholar father - not bad!Below her, a lively and adorable pair of younger siblings - very good!But really, she felt like dying all over again, you know?On the run, going without food, drink, or shelter was one thing,but to always guard against bad guys who might capture her to fill their bellies was another!Luckily, her upgradable Space from the previous life followed her,but what the heck -that amazing Space with mountains, water, and meat to eat had been formatted!Faced with a desperate situation, Mo Yan reignited her fighting spirit:So what if it's formatted, I'll still make a fortune and build my wealth right at the foot of the Imperial City!Carving out mountains, planting orchards, buying shops, building houses... not one less!But... there are so many green-eyed troublemakers!Your farm is yours? Here, I'll trap you to death without discussion!Want to be my stepmom? Fine, I'll send you a bunch of widowers!Mother looking for you? Here, take the divorce papers, keep them, don't thank me!...What? A handsome man is proposing? Uh, this... should I throw myself at him?

Shenwu mainland, Yangwu worships God. A generation of Tianjiao, Wu Sheng was born again. Too really water, refining the body. Boxing the world, feet and arrogance. The celestial emperor, the law is empty. “Dare to despise the brothers, all killed!” “The woman who dares to move the brother, has been sleeping!” “Brother is just a myth, no one!” – from the quotations of the Emperor Lingfeng. The Supreme Demon is a very popular fantasy fantasy type written by the author, and tells the vivid story of the Supreme Devil.

- Description from zhuishubox (translated)

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.”

A nordic romance that burns up coldly!