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The loudspeaker continued to repeat the previous announcement. However, the people who were squatting in the city quietly began to move as all sorts of thoughts crossed their minds.

A few friends, relatives, children, or people with other intimate relationships began to slowly gather together and look at the others around them vigilantly.

Those who were loners slowly pressed their backs against building walls to ensure others would not attack them if a battle broke ou ...

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Han Ye crossed into the world of a fantasy cultivation epoch, transmigrating into a tenant farmer in Langlang Village. Believing he was doomed to live his life in toil and hardship, he accidentally awakened a destiny called “Accumulated Attributes Released at Once”.

“Accumulated Attributes Released at Once”: Not unlike how constant dripping wears away a stone, or how hard frost forms at three feet not overnight, it allows one to accumulate the attributes of others. Remaining quiet until the moment you choose to release it, one can then shock everyone with their power.

In Langlang Village, he worked alongside farmers, and secretly listened to lectures in private schools.

“Strength of an Ox +1”

“Slightly Versed in Literature and Ink +1”

In the Sect’s Grand Competition, disciples compete and are selected through observation.

“Fire Spiritual Root +1”

“Sword Heart Clarity +1”

With such assistance, hope ignited within Han Ye. He steadily developed, diligently accumulated attributes and improved his strength to allow himself to transform, growing stronger in silence.

That year, the gears of fate began to turn. No one expected that the tranquil world of immortal cultivators, which had remained peaceful for ten thousand years, would begin to descend into chaos!

As the Heavens collapsed, the great powers emerged; immortals descended, sparking a war between the righteous and the demonic.

No one could have imagined that a humble tenant farmer from those years past could rise to become Han the Respected One, feared by the world.

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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.”

Only I CultivateChapter 29: They Were Suffering
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