Online Game: You Call Him A Newbie? - Chapter 634 Humans Don’t Lie to Humans! (3)

Chu Li was a particle physicist until a freak accident took his life and transmigrated him to a parallel universe – one where he wakes up with inexplicable abilities and finds himself in the running for a job in the imperial palace.

Through an array of coincidences, Alex comes to learn that making pills is one of the best ways to earn money in the game, 'Eternal Cultivation.'

What do you mean by you only accept female disciples?Zhang Yuan glanced at the Emperor of a powerful Dynasty kneeling in front of him and his son, the prince is also kneeling beside him.“Master Yuan, please accept my son as your disciple. I am sure that under your care, my son will reach the pinnacle of the Heavens.”Pinnacle of the Heavens? Zhang Yuan turned his gaze to the so called Prince. Talentless, weak physique and sh!t cultivation technique.Tch, worthless.Zhang Yuan then turned his eyes to another Dynasty Emperor “Master Yuan, please accept my daughter as your disciple.”Seeing the gorgeous woman kneeling in front of him, Zhao Tian smiled faintly.Talentless? I will make you the most talented mortal entity this world has ever seen.Weak physique? I will give you a physique that will break even the limitations of the heavens and earth.Sh!t cultivation technique? Don't worry, choose the best divine technique you want.Sorry but I only accept female disciples!

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.”