MTL - Martial Arts From Bandits - Chapter 720 Where did the 100,000 troops come from! ! !

Yang Yang starved to death once, so after rebirth, he had only one wish: food and clothing.

However, in the blink of an eye, Yang Yang heard his uncle say that he had to cut open his stomach to take out the eggs.

Yang Yang: … I advise you to be kind.

In order to protect himself, Yang Yang found out the identity of the father from the birth center, and he embarked on a road of no return.

Yang Yang: Duke, your family is in my hand.

A young unmarried duke: ? ? ?

- Description from Novelupdates

A series of nine stars occurred here, and various creatures violently mutated, killing the former overlords – humans crazily.

Thermal weapons are no longer humanity’s trump card.

Fortunately, mutations have also occurred in humans.

Human beings will awaken their bloodline at a specific time and gain the inherited power of various ferocious beasts.

And Xu Mo, who obtained the system, was even more outrageous.

He awakened the bloodline of the ten ancient beasts and led mankind to regain its dominance! !

- Description from novelbuddy

The Descent of the Dragon Tower.A young man refines the nine Dragon Emperors, cultivates the invincible Dragon Body of eternal glory.Slays the emperors of myriad heavens, gods, and demons alike, defying gods and Buddhas.Invincible across nine thousand realms!

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.”