Two Realms Shuttle Gate: Don't Call Me a Demon! - Chapter 1194 - 642: Top-grade Nine Refinement Gu Insect

Failing at the ceremony, Ethan became a Broken Carrier, the worst and weakest of them all.In this world where abilities had to be created and found through the Patterns, Ethan had no choice but to risk everything to change his fate.“So this is my Construct?” Ethan gazed at the massive gears of his core, preparing to harness a new power.The weakest carriers could always become the strongest, all that was needed were methods, desperate and risky, just like the world itself.

Lu Liangwei wakes up to find herself transmigrated as a supporting character in the novel she had been reading a few days ago. According to the novel, this character has everything—beauty, wealth, status—except brains. Before Liangwei had taken over, she even went as far as to hang herself for the male protagonist that she loved: the Crown Prince as well as her sister's lover. Now that she has become a "brand new" person, it is time for her to turn her life around with charm and wit! She will get everyone to fall in love with her, even the Crown Prince's uncle—the Emperor! Who needs a prince when you can become the Empress herself?

¬ This story isn't mine, I just want to post it here so I can read in this app.

He’s in the deepest part of the Jianghu. Keep your eyes wide open if you do not wish to get dragged into the abyss.

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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.”