Return Of The Strongest Player - Chapter 197 Upcoming Waves: History Is But A Recollection Of The Past

Yi Zaha. The crazy demon crazy for martial arts. While he was running away after stealing the heavenly pearl of the Demon Cult Leader, he fell off a cliff. After thinking that everything was over, he opened his eyes to see that he had returned back to when he was a waiter… And he is being beat up for something that he didn’t do. The crazy demon who returned to the beginning of his days as a waiter! Will he go crazy again, or will he drive his enemies crazy?

Gu MingYue is absolutely done with being the cannon fodder side character of a novel… To think that she, born with beauty and status, had her life and her man stolen by a white lotus who had nothing on her! What on earth is going on!?

But everything changed after she met the one called “System”. After finding out that she was a mere cannon fodder in a novel, and that by completing various missions, she would be able to achieve what she wanted most – to be reborn into her world!

This is a story of a strikingly beautiful and poised cannon fodder, out on a mission to complete quests, and there is only one way to do so – have sex!

When Gao Ge is awake, he finds that he has returned to the earth before aura reappeared. The world will usher in an era of practitioners soon. Various schools of cultivation and families of ancient martial arts will spring up. As a man who is living a second life, Gao Ge will never let go of the chance to grasp the resources, cultivation methods and treasure places first.

In this era, there are many geniuses and I, Gao Ge, shall be the king of them.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”