MTL - The Holy Lord In the Comic World - Chapter 390 : Fenglin Guild

After Lin Zisheng, whose whole family was ruined by a white lotus, woke up once more, he discovered that his mind now had an additional so-called ‘system.’

Lin Zisheng: hehe… …

And so…

System: cho-chotto matte! Host-daren, that is the white lotus we are supposed to save, y-you can’t force her onto the road of no return!

Lin Zisheng: An early death means an early reincarnation, I am freeing her from endless suffering.

System: … … [Host’s words are highly logical, I actually have no words to retort…QAQ]

#Early Every Morning I Wake Up And See Host Pushing Male Lead Down A Pit#

#Host Keeps Trying To Squash Target To Death, What To Do, Waiting Online, Urgent!#

#Please Spare That Little White Lotus, She Is Still A child#

#Male Lead-sama, Your Female Lead Is Over There, Please Let Go Of My Host QAQ#

#Why Male Lead Getting Bent Unprovoked#

Also…

#Every Morning Also Sees The System Being Silly (Seeking Death)#

- Description from Novelupdates

His muscles screamed, his body begged for rest, his mind ordered him to stop. But Bakugo couldn't. Not while Izuku hadn't arrived. So, he pushed forward. Every explosion, every strike, every movement was pure determination, a reflection of his unwavering will to win.For a moment, he felt beyond himself. Fast. Precise. Almost invincible.And then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed. The battlefield vanished, and the pain ceased.It was in that moment that Katsuki Bakugo understood... he had died.Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, images or songs featured in this fic. Additionally, I do not claim ownership of any products or properties mentioned in this novel. This work is entirely fanfic.

When 18-year-old Chu Miao dies in a tragic car accident, her soul vanishes; but her body does not remain empty for long. A formidable warrior from an ancient era, the daughter of a renowned general, awakens in her place. Sent into the future by a prophecy, she finds herself in a world on the brink of destruction.With only a month before typhoons ravage the land, extreme weather shifts without warning, and terrifying mutations transform animals and plants into deadly threats. Worst of all, a horrifying virus spreads like wildfire, turning humans into flesh-eating zombies. Civilization crumbles and only the strongest survive.Though her new body lacks the powerful cultivation she once had, she still possesses an invaluable advantage; her ancient spatial ring. Filled with elixirs, weapons, demonic beast cores, and rare cultivation resources, it becomes her greatest tool for survival. But modern supplies are also essential, and she must act fast to stockpile resources before the apocalypse fully takes hold.As chaos reigns, she fights to protect her family and secure a foothold in this brutal new world. Along the way, she crosses paths with a mysterious and powerful man, one of the rare few who awaken supernatural abilities and is just as determined to survive. Together, they forge an unbreakable bond, battling both the relentless undead and the desperate survivors willing to kill for a chance to live.Armed with ancient wisdom and modern strategy, she refuses to bow to fate.In this new life, she will rise again—not as a lost soul from the past, but as a warrior destined to rule the apocalypse.

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.”