My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL} - Chapter 170: Like Nothing Even Happened

Qin Huai crossed into the mysterious fantasy world where demons were rampant and heroes were rising. He had no background or cultivation qualifications until the day he became a medicine store apprentice and started to cultivate with his fellow apprentices.

He found that the experience orbs actually fell out of his master and brothers.

He learned to grind medicine with his brothers.

“Ding! ‘Medicine Art’ Experience+3!”

His Master and brothers practiced martial arts.

“Ding! You picked up an ‘Essence of Qi Cultivation (White)’, ‘Qi Cultivation’ experience +3!”

He killed the bandits in the mountains and picked up their cultivation.

“Ding! ‘Astringent Breath Technique’ experience +13!”

His master said that the technique was not good at attacking, had a cultivation limit, and could only prolong life.

But when Qin Huai picked up the experience until the Astringent Breath Technique was 50 times stronger, his body took a tremendous change. A gentle push of his hand was like a wave. He could now both attack and defend.

People said that when two kinds of cultivation methods clashed, continuing to cultivate would lead to the death of the cultivator.

However, when Qin Huai picked up experience and directly skipped the cultivation process, he found there were no side effects at all!

When Qin Huai practiced more and more cultivation methods, he suddenly found that those methods interacted with each other in his body and became stronger skills.

…

Qin Huai, who could pick up experience, began to wander among the major powers.

He saw flesh growing from white bones and the dead revived.

He saw demons cooking 10,000 people and exuding extremely evil energy.

He saw the Buddha statue chanting in the temple. Sanskrit sounded like a mantra.

Qin Huai silently picked up experience in order to settle down in the chaotic world.

A nordic romance that burns up coldly!

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.”

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.