HUNTED - Chapter 401: The Order

Thirty years old, he is an otaku. His job is to sell customized 6v elves on Taobao.com. He has just received a big order and has not yet completed the work. He has traveled to the real world of elves.

With a newly modified bird with its own “pick up” feature,

And a cheat that can change the flash, characteristics, and individual value of race.

But, can anyone tell him why there are only half of the gold fingers? !

And, silly bird, put down the Guyoka in your mouth!

Seeing Gu Yueniao who brought Gaioka home, Hu Yang suddenly became ill.

——

The book is also known as: A career in the Pokémon world from scratch.

- Description from novelbuddy

To pick is to choose. This is a story about choices. Three thousand world full of gods and demons, with a daoist scroll in your hand, you are able to control the entire universe…

At the beginning of time, a mystical meteor came crashing down from outer space and scattered all over the world. A piece of it landed in the Eastern Continent. There were mysterious totems carved upon the meteor. Through viewing these totems, the humankind comprehended the Dao and established the Orthodoxy.

Several thousand years later, the fourteen years old orphan Chen Changsheng left his master to cure his illness and change his fate. He brought a piece of marriage vow with him to the capital, thus began the journey of a rising hero.

To sum up in a sentence, *slag men **washing white daily, transmigrating to different worlds to wash white, and the goal is to become a good man!

Note:
*Slag men refer to men who play with women’s hearts aka scum.
**Washing white means to come clean, fix up your life.

- 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.”