MTL - Senior Brother is Number One In the World - Chapter 323 Help

In the wizard world, the mysterious magic cube gave Lin Suo the ability to fuse all things.However, sometimes the recipe was a bit strange. The Evil God would shake his head when he looked at it.Horse corpse x 2 + stone + wood + clay + tent cloth = Double Horse Chariot.Octopus corpse + flower of enlightenment + black goat corpse = octopus flower with black hair?Skeleton + Bloodthirsty Vine + Vampire Eyeball = Thorny Creature Eyeball???Lin Suo: As long as there are corpses in the recipe, it will definitely make the Evil God frown.

[Vest flow, semi-invincible, Conan colleagues]

Interview with the protagonist:

Q1: What is your secret to becoming the ace shark player of the Black Organization?

Jiang Xia: “Take Conan to the target’s house for a walk.”

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Q2: What’s your secret to retrieving the treasures stolen by Kidd many times?

Jiang Xia: “His accomplice is my vest.”

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An interview with the detectives of Kexue World:

Q1: How do you view Jiangxia?

Detectives: “Except for solving the case too quickly + being unable to hold people back, there are no other shortcomings.”

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Q2: As a high school detective, why not join forces with Jiang Xia to fight against the Black Organization?

Detectives (hurriedly wave their hands): “No no no, can’t tell him that the darkness of the world is too heavy for him.”

- Description from novelbuddy

“How did you know? I’ve been careful so that no one could find out.”Adrian Kaiser von der Palzgraf, the heir of the Pa...

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.”