Lustful Paradise - Chapter 262 Don’t Ruin Our Fun, Okay?

He once reached the peak—only to discover that the heavens reward no one.Betrayed by fate itself, his soul regressed through time and claimed a new body: Gu Qinghe, the disgraced Young Master of the Gu Clan, born with status yet ridiculed as a waste.This vessel was different.With every memory from his past life intact and the Infinite Comprehension System, all techniques revealed their secrets.Bottlenecks shattered. Incomplete arts perfected. Even forbidden paths bent before his understanding.This time, he would not walk the road of cultivation blindly.Every step was calculated. Every enemy marked.Using knowledge stolen from the future and comprehension that defied heaven, he would rise from ridicule to supremacy—suppressing prodigies, trampling sects, and overturning the natural order.The heavens had denied him once.Now, he would make them pay.

Yu Qiu once thought that he could rely on his shixiong forever, but when he was captured by the Shadow Demon, he watched helplessly as his shixiong stepped into the bride room together with a woman.

He knew he was one foot in the grave, powerless to reverse the situation.

After reincarnating, how could he walk the path of seal cultivation again?

Rebel? Vengeance? Revenge? Depend on a loyal dog who would be his shield?

That was too low for him!!!

He was going to:

Break up that haze in front of his eyes and turn it into tall mountains.

No longer depend on anyone, but rely on his own strength for everything.

Make every cultivator never say the words “seal cultivation is only supplementary” ever again.

Become the strongest person in the world.

Show that he will become a Daozhang.

- Description from Novelupdates

fun story

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.”