I Became A Mighty Lion - Chapter 174 - The Might Of The Golden Claw!

Mu Qing was struck by lightning and ended up traveling to the prehistory, 10,000 years in the past, where she began her days of cohabitation with ancient people ……

They were simple and thus perseverant; they were primitive but filled with affection; they were waiting for civilization but already wise beyond measure.

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Li Yu transmigrated to a world of the cultivation and martial arts. He became the head disciple of a low-ranking sect.

“The Earth was chosen by the gods, and all humans were sent to another world, participating in a 'Dark Lord and Hero's game'.Billions of humans played the roles of 'Dark Lord' and 'Hero', each needing to choose their initial race at the beginning.Ethan Jackson was matched to the 'Dark Lord' faction and became a Dungeon King.To his surprise, he found that he could see hidden information that others couldn't...[Goblin Dark Lord] Low-level Bloodline, not recommended.[Stone Giant Dark Lord] Mid-level Bloodline, not recommended.[Magical Treant Dark Lord] High-level Bloodline, recommended.[Golden Divine Dragon Dark Lord] Top-level Bloodline, highly recommended!...Heroes coveted Ethan's dungeon, and the treasures within it attracted numerous adventurers.Among them, there were young Lady Knights, the saints of the royal capital, tsundere female magicians, and innocent but naive female priests...Ethan could never have anticipated that.As the game had just begun, the dungeon's Goblin guards caught a Lady Knight and offered her to him as a tribute.”

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.”