Looking After a Battle God With Hundreds of Billions in Supplies - Chapter 112 - : Azure Dragon Base

In the grand weekend year, demons cause chaos, and people cannot live peacefully.Han Zheng, carrying the game setting he designed [Taotie Furnace], travels to this world. By sacrificing to the furnace, one can break through martial arts techniques.From [White Ape Extended Arm Fist] to [Ape Demon Nine Transformations].From [Vajra Fist] to [Great Vajra Ming King Seal] and then to [Great Mighty Dragon Bodhisattva View].From [True Martial Refinement] to [True Martial Holy Body] and then to [True Martial Indestructible Body]There are no gods in the world, hence demons run rampant, and evil spirits are everywhere.As Han Zheng kills his way through the chaotic world of demons, looking back, he has become the only true god in this world!

Send a mayfly to the world, a drop in the vast ocean!

Ye Chen woke up and found that he had traveled to the Qing Dynasty. Looking at the father lying on the bed, and the mother doing laundry for the neighbor

I thought it was an ancient farming text.

But with the awakening of the system! Only to find that everything is not so simple.

In Xiling in the south, there are Tufuzi running around, there is a restaurant with the same name in the capital, and the Zhang family in the northeast…

In the ancient building

Zhang Family: What the hell are you, you didn’t exist in history!

Ye Chen: I exist to change history.

In the Tomb of King Lu

Wu Xie: Brother’s tattoo is so handsome! He must have some special story..

Fatty Wang on the other side: No! I think Ye Chen’s is more handsome, okay?

Wu Xie turned her head to look: Damn!

Until the combination of various abilities of Shan Hai Jing, he also detached and became an ancient god,

To understand the true meaning of this world.

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”

I became a mage character from my favorite game.