My Maids Are All Antagonists! - Chapter 122 - Fierce Battle, the 40th Floor of the Trial Tower!

A terrible calamity has fallen onto Zhang Fan, not only becoming one of the three survivors of Grass Temple Village, where everyone else was horribly massacred, he was also tasked to carry one of the most evil artifacts, the Sinister Bead, and taught one of the most secret teachings of the Skysong Sect, the Brahmin Wisdom. Now he cultivates in the Jadeon Sect, his knowledge and possession will draw him into a chaotic story where he will have to carry some of the greatest burdens of the Martial World.

One week. If you survive, you choose a Cosmic Power... you survive. Jace isn’t one to give up. Not when his sister dies. Not when he loses his legs. And definitely not when The Cosmic System takes over Earth. With nothing more than his street smarts, the clothes on his back, and a river otter companion; he must survive a planet full of vicious predators that see him as an easy meal. If he can survive? He gets to choose a Cosmic Power and a Class. A path to ascension. A way to bring his sister back.

One of the four greatest braggarts in the web novel circle, Zhang Xuan, has entered the 【Source World】, a higher dimensional plane even above the Empyrean. With the complete version of the Library of Heaven’s Path that encompasses the capacities of the 【Heavens’ Imperfections】, 【Heavens’ Order】, and 【Heavens’ Nature】, he embarks on an adventure — showcasing his might — across the world! Searching for Fate, Resigning Oneself to Fate, Knowing One’s Fate, Commanding Fate... While all of you are still cultivating your fate, seeking fate, or borrowing fate, I, Zhang Xuan, already possess the ’Eternal Fate of the Heavens’!

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.”