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... after the Emperor Tuntian came up with real strength, this attack defeated the faith of the ancestor of the Lord.

Fortunately, the attack that Emperor Tun Ri just did was not a killing move. To be precise, Emperor Tun Ri was deliberately demonstrating his strength. What he wanted was to let the enemy's confidence collapse before killing.

After the old man in Zhongzhao strode, every step he stepped down in a void in the void, and he stabilised his body only after taking 15 steps bac ...

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Rowan was just a broke college dropout—until he was summoned to another world.Dragged into the war-torn realm of Laronia, Rowan stands beside four other chosen heroes, each blessed by prophecy… except him.While the others awaken to legendary powers and divine roles, Rowan receives a blank grimoire. No magic. No title. No future.Cast aside and marked a failure, he prepares for death—until the silence inside his grimoire begins to speak.The gods made a mistake. And this world is not ready for what lies beneath the Wordless Mage.

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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.”

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Su Yao, who was clearly a real daughter but died, was reborn.

In her last life, she swallowed her anger, and then she was cruel and cruel.

No one would think it would be too fishy to suck her blood.

Once again, she will be the last month, crowned with pearls, shining brightly.

Someone followed behind her while digging a hole for her, and painstakingly persuaded her:

Without so much effort, do you see the crown on my head?

You are the most gorgeous one above.

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