MTL - In the Great World of Martial Arts, You Use the Tao of Talisman To Rule the Ages? - Chapter 81 Fight from Xicheng to Lu Mengze!

“How did a perfectly fine magic world invested by ghosts?”Aya looked at the ghosts in front of her silently and raised her hand to cast a spell.She came to the past and wanted to change the tragedy written in the history books. But how did these ghosts come with her too?Ah, will she cause early destruction of the world?Uh......“Teacher, if I tell you that I didn't mean it, would you stop being angry?” Aya trembled when she looked at the man in front of her.She didn't meant to offend him!“Oh?” Her teacher looks back and smiled faintly. Did she think she could escape after provoking him?“Ah, ah, ah....”Aya swore that she didn't mean to provoke her young teacher. But it seemed that it was inevitable?QAQ

Hua Jin Lan, a 21st century assassin, was tied up by her sister and thrown into the sea. When her eyes reopened, she had became the daughter, with the same name, of a martial arts family in the Yue dynasty. Some say that the daughter was worthless and just a pretty face; some say she was shameless and proposed to 5 different men a total of 10 times; some say she was a ruthless person and when unable to obtain love she turns to love potions. She was exposed thus while bearing both shame and resentment she jumps into the river and commits suicide……Wait what?

I, an assassin, am being trolled? Fine! If you say I am worthless, let me show you what is a genius. If you say I am shameless, let me show you what is presumptuous. If you say I am brazen, let me show you what is even more brazen.

- 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.”

Within the dream of the dreamer, the one who was dreamed of awoke.