Ultimate Cash System - Chapter 45: He is serious about it.

An unexpected discovery in Machu Picchu has transported a young professional thief from Earth to a world filled with mystical powers and evil plots. With his beloved teacher and best friend killed during the calamity, his only goal is to become stronger, so that he can take revenge for them.This is a novel filled with politics, the struggle for power, evil beauties, and of course, Divine Immortals.

Lord of the Mysteries, part two.

In 1368, at the end of July. Bloody scarlet will descend from heaven.

Shi Qian opened her eyes and looked at the man’s handsome face.

“You have to be responsible to me.”

The thin lips of a certain black-bellied evildoer slightly hooked, with a smile that was not a smile.

From then on, there was an extra goblin in the house of Lord Zhan, the great demon king of the imperial capital! The big devil turned into a faint king and spoiled the little goblin to the sky!

Some people: “It’s useless except for that face, it’s just a vase! I’ll be dumped by Master Zhan sooner or later!”

Not long after… the legendary god turned out to be that little goblin!

Why does the boss of the hacker army look a bit like that little goblin!

The founder of the popular game on the Internet is more like that little goblin.

The woman who defeated the number one expert in the ancient martial arts is also a bit like… a boss! Kneel down!

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”