MTL - Venerated Venomous Consort - Chapter 3011 You have too many words 1

“I stress repeatedly, the attitude of the Cultivation World is inherently distorted, not because I distorted it. They say history is written by the victors, so why am I still constantly slandered even after I’ve won?” Lu Yang Sword Immortal said so angrily in an interview with the reporter.The next day.“I stress repeatedly, I am the one who distorted the attitude of the Cultivation World.” Lu Yang Sword Immortal said so angrily during the reporter’s interview. –Reported by the 《Cultivation Daily》for you.

For some reason, Shao Qian devoured half of the system that tried to devour his soul after tricking him into completing missions in worlds where he was horribly humiliated.

Since he didn’t feel like returning to his original world anymore, he decided to return to the worlds of which he had the coordinates and retaliate against them!

But…….

Why is it that every world seems not quite right?

Could it be the method he used to cross through the worlds was wrong?

Why is the female lead completely ignored by the male lead who, for some reason, is currently sticking to him like glue?

- Description from Novelupdates

“Welcome aboard the Dimensional Rift game exclusive train. This train will depart from the Level E Departure Station and head to Level D stations. Please ensure your safety while boarding in an orderly manner and abide by the train rules.”“The train rules are as follows:”“1. Do not bring non-game items onto the train. (Underwear is the exception)”“2. Consumption is mandatory. (All train staff are unpaid volunteers)”“3. Do not turn on the lights after they are out. (Except for those who are exceptionally talented and courageous)”“Additionally, the train encourages various leisure activities such as sneak attacks, brawling, and predation. Players are free to choose.”“We wish you a pleasant journey.”

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.”