Dead on Mars - Chapter 242 - Sol Three Hundred and Forty-One, The Myth of Sisyphus

In that life, Fan Qingyao was the daughter of a famous family, the successor of a miraculous doctor, and her medical skills were superb. But she poisoned the traitor Zhongliang, considered the thief his father, and threatened her relatives to seek power and seize the throne for him.

The whole family of my grandfather died without any body parts, and my brother was burned into a handful of ashes. Having been drained of all her value, she was thrown into the cold palace and died tragically under the boning knife in his hand.

When she opened her eyes again, she was back to when she was ten years old. People are still the same people, things are still the same, but Fan Qingyao vows to turn things around!

For her seriously ill mother, her wasted sister, and her nameless brother, she wanted to personally find happiness and health for them, and a bright future ahead of them.

Stepmother who dominates her mother’s status, since you love money, I will keep you in poverty for the rest of your life.

Partial father, if you like power, I will ruin your reputation!

You scumbag who deceived her, you love the throne, I will let you watch others sit on that chair!

My sister with a hidden smile, everything you like, I will crush it to pieces in front of you with my own hands!

In this life, relatives must be protected and enemies must be fought. Of course, revenge is not avenged in a day, and the road is not completed in one day.

However, as this road of revenge continues, one more person appears out of thin air! Your Highness, could you please give way?

- Description from novelbuddy

Yun Ling, on the eve of his sixteenth birthday, faces mixed feelings from his younger sisters, Yun Wei and Yun Chu, about the upcoming test to determine his cultivation talent—a critical milestone in this world where martial prowess can define one’s destiny.Despite their teasing and doubts, Yun Ling harbors a secret determination fueled by a tragic past. He’s not originally from Blue Star but a transmigrator who lost his parents at a young age and witnessed his father’s mu*der—a powerful martial artist and vice master of the Golden Wind Martial Club. Adopted by Yun Jinglin, Yun Ling has lived with a burning desire for revenge against his father’s killer, now a grandmaster level martial cultivator.On Blue Star, a planet transformed by disaster thirty years ago that unleashed ferocious beasts and dark demonic energy, humans discovered the power of vitality, giving rise to superhuman warriors and a new era of martial cultivation.Will he possess the cultivation talent needed to pursue his quest for revenge and protect those he cares for in a world where ferocious beasts and martial might reign supreme?

I drew a lottery at the Shopping District and won the privilege to go to another world. After drawing a lot of balls, unexpectedly I got a cheat-like skill. Silencing those who are noisy and getting hold of all the things that I want. I will satisfy all my desires.

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.”