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... d with the difficulty between the two, it should still be the pressure that Fang Senyan had previously suffered. Be bigger, because the mixing team was able to shoot calmly at a distance of hundreds of meters at that time, and counterattacks of unused prey could be systematically loaded and aimed

现在 Now the reef is set on fire, most of the attackers are carrying the negative state of heartbreaking, and more importantly, the reef has approached them! Unless it is the kind of shooter with e ...

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“Hero, where are you going?”“To eat.”“Hero, where are you going?”“To the bathroom.”“Hero…!”“…”The woman who followed me everywhere… Ended up following me all the way to Earth.———A former hero who returned to Earth, now unemployed and just lazing around at home.Then, the saintess who came with him made a suggestion—“How about streaming?”“Hmm… This might actually be a good idea.”And so, the Hero & Saintess Healing Stream begins!

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People in the World of Naruto: Drinking Makes You Stronger
 Author: Half a Piece of OrangeYouyu, a man who found himself transported into the Naruto world, awakened a rather unusual system:The more he drinks, the stronger he becomes!• Raikage: “What?! I have the strongest defense—wait, why did Youyu just slice through me while drinking?!”• Hiruzen Sarutobi: “That guy’s a monster. I’ve never seen him train, only drink... yet he still cut me down in an instant.”• Madara Uchiha: “Dancing? Tch. That drunk bastard swayed his way over and chopped me up!”• Obito Uchiha: “Damn it! Even space-time jutsu can’t stop that drunk maniac!”Youyu: “My hobbies? Drinking... and cutting people down.”

MTL - Deposed Empress GeneralChapter 132 end
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A deposed empress, a failure of a substitute. Charging into battle, he was the emperor, and she, his general. But within the intimacy of their military tent, he was her husband, and she, his wife.

But everything was star-crossed. For the one he loved the most, he would push her into hell again and again.

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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.”