My Beasts Grind Proficiency For Me - Chapter 161 - 66: A Clean Sweep

Failing at the ceremony, Ethan became a Broken Carrier, the worst and weakest of them all.In this world where abilities had to be created and found through the Patterns, Ethan had no choice but to risk everything to change his fate.“So this is my Construct?” Ethan gazed at the massive gears of his core, preparing to harness a new power.The weakest carriers could always become the strongest, all that was needed were methods, desperate and risky, just like the world itself.

In China’s modern martial arts society, Wu Xinghe was history’s youngest grandmaster of martial arts. He was invincible. Because of a strange incident, he was reincarnated as Qin Wushuang, a poor aristocratic boy in an entirely different world with its own set of rules. With his strong will and passion, he began his journey to pursue the highest peak of martial arts!

Raelis Varekan was born into royalty but treated like trash. With 0% bloodline purity, he was branded a failure, framed for treason, and executed without a second thought.But despite his expectations, he had come back to the time he was twelve years old, standing in front of the same bloodline testing orb. But this time, something changed.His former 0% bloodline purity was gone, replaced by a 1% result.And with it came something no one else could see: a system that let him grow stronger.[Ding!][+1% Bloodline Purity][Total Bloodline Purity: 2% (Ash)][Next Bloodline Rank at 10% Purity: Ember]With the future burned into his memory and a strange system tracking his growth, Raelis wouldn't make the same mistakes twice. He would become strong and he would use every tool he had to survive the academy and outmaneuver his siblings and the nobles who once betrayed him.And most importantly...Raelis would rise through the ranks and become the one who rewrites the Varekan Empire’s history.

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.”