Master Craftsman of the Pokémon World - Chapter 108 -

Li Quangqing traversed to the cultivation world and became a family fisherman, starting with twenty acres of fish ponds.Unexpectedly, every time spiritual fish were harvested, a reward orb could be obtained.[Harvested one adult big green fish, received a lower-grade water arrow talisman!][Harvested one adult iron bone crab, received the “Gengjin Sword Technique”!][Harvested one adult longevity turtle, received the “Gui Sui Shou” pill, prolonging life by twenty years!]...Since then, Li Quangqing watched the tides rise and fall in the world, the wind and clouds changing, wanting only to raise fish and become immortal peacefully.Until thousands of years later, a certain Water Virtue True Immortal appeared out of nowhere, shaking the immortal realm, capable of covering the sky with one hand.“Since the Milky Way is also a river, it's okay for me to use it for fish farming, right?”

After the hard struggle of a post-80s Shen Feiyang, he met with a tragic car accident in his fifties. When he again opened his eyes, he did not see the white walls of a hospital, nor had he arrived at the netherworld. Instead, he had transmigrated into the body of the post-50s young girl, Shen Yunfang.He had transmigrated into an era where people could not get enough to eat or sufficient clothes to wear.Humph, such hardships could not defeat a wise woman who had battled through society for half her life. Watch as she, with a chicken in her left hand and a duck in her right, carries a chubby baby on her back and sings triumphantly along the way.

This novel is also known as Endless Bloodstone / Infinite Bloodcore

In the dark night there is no light, save for the sound of war drums and rally cries. The young man listens carefully, it is his heartbeat and the flow of his own blood.

What hides in the darkness ahead? Is it man, god or… a monster?

There is no such thing as the best road. However, the journey beneath one’s feet is unbounded!

- 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.”