The Unparalleled Sword Emperor - Chapter 1885 - 1882: The Prodigy of East Continent!

Hye lived his entire life without a class. After the apocalypse hit the human world, strange creatures invaded and killed humans while new lands were being added.

Systems were given to humans and with the help of the guides, humans started to fight back for their lives. All of this happened under the watch of the venerable beings who were shining stars in the sky; gods!

Hye dreamt his entire life of a chance to prove himself. He was a hard working, earnestly learning and smart youth. However, the apocalypse never was merciful to such humans at all.

Until one day he got a chance to go back in time, when everything started. At this new starting point, he found himself able to finally obtain what he wanted, a class for himself and power beyond imagination.

But will things be this easy for him?

What to do when you find yourself transformed into the vicious female supporting character in a family that dotes on the group pet?Of course, it's to keep away from the protagonist,She's practically the darling of the heavens, with a protagonist halo so strong even a dog would fall for her.Hiss, Bai Zhi said, “Can't compete, can't compete, cherish life, stay away from the protagonist.”All she wanted was to quietly make some small money and live freely, but—Group pet with tearful eyes, “Sister, come back, I'll let you have our brother.”Bai Zhi, “...” No need, I refuse.Group pet with an overflowing Mother Teresa complex, “This was all my fault; please, don't blame my sister!”Bai Zhi, “...” Look at this white lotus script; hey! Where's my knife?—Even more fantastic was when that baby-faced weak little brother suddenly appeared midway and transformed into a boss!Bai Zhi, “???”A new book has started; the Film Emperor's daughter is hibernating again. There are new book activities, sweet, sweet, sweet

Corrupted by Angle Of Chaos.Cursed by the whispers of unknown beings.Stripped of will, power, and memory.Shon Eril makes a choice—an insane choice. Not bound by fate. Not forced by death. Not by his own will. But by a choice, a revelation. He steps into a book, and awakens in another body… Ibaan De Light.A vast world unfolds before him: towering machinery, advanced technology, mighty clans, secretive organizations, churches, sealed contracts, schools, endless metros and carriers, airships crossing the skies, and the unknown—the same frightening beings, the curse carriers!Here begins his journey, not as a hero, but as a servant of Willpower.Will he reclaim his will, or lose himself to its abyss?This is the tale of what he seeks… and what seeks him.***“I order you to understand me—my will, my choices and my beloved ones.”———————Extra Tags: #AcademyArc #Scoopy #Clans #SecretOrganizations #cults #mysteries #hidden identities #unknown beings #angels #daemons #deities etcJoin the Discord server for illustrations and more: https://discord.gg/djNAmGxJZ5

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.”