Cultivation Online - Chapter 491 - Midnight Invasion

Lugis is an adventurer who accompanies the Hero’s team party. However, every day he has to fulfill tasks that are not pleasant at all. In addition, he is oppressed by the other members of the group. The only reason he remains on this journey is because of his childhood friend, Ariane. But she is fascinated with the team leader known as Hero. One day a shadow figure appears and tell Lugis, “Let me give you a chance. A chance to redraw your life.” And so, Lugis is given the opportunity to be sent to the past to restart his life.

Dear father and mother.

Please forgive this daughter who is tainted.

I, Cecilia Silvy, will strive to continue to live peacefully…

I have decided to become a man!

High school student Hiyono Kanzaki reincarnated as Cecilia Silvy, the villainess lady of the otome game “Wruhel Academy Saint Princess 3”.

In order to avoid her miserable future, she decided to spend her time at Wruhel Academy, the main stage of the game… as a man.

Will she be able to complete her school life without anybody discovering the truth?!

Moulded from rot and souls, Loimos is born as an undead, as a skeleton. An undead linked to the weakest category of its kind, yet, he has something no other of the dead have. He is pure. Follow the journey of Loimos as he fulfils his duty and hunts down the living with extreme prejudice and faces off with the hypocrisy of those who live in death. In a world thriving with life, magic and heroes, he stands as the solution and its end.

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.”