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... on was soft, like a feather brushing against my skin.

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I blinked groggily, the remnants of dreams still clinging to the edges of my mind as I slowly opened my eyes.

The first thing I saw was Zoe, her face close to mine, her expression calm and warm.

Her hand rested lightly on my arm, the contact both soothing and bittersweet.

"I'm leaving," she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur, as if she d ...

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On June 6th of the fifth year of the Great Wilderness, it was the fifth year since Yang Xu came to the ancient wilderness, he established the Daxu Kingdom in the wilderness and proclaimed himself king.

The country has one city, three towns, and nine thousand people.

Among the people are the fox clan in Qingqiu, the mermaid people in the East China Sea, and the blue bird clan.

The fox family is good at illusion, the mermaid can control the water, and the blue bird soars nine days.

Not long after the founding of the country, the Yuren found a lifeboat in the northwest waters of the Daxu Kingdom, and captured six human races, talking to themselves as American federalists.

Yang Xu:? ? ?

Come on, I have already established a country, you said that I am still on the earth and have not traveled through time?

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When he woke up, Luochen found that he had crossed over, and he was also carrying a ‘God-level landing system’.

One day, a game called “Pokémon OL” came to earth.

Everything in this game can be brought to reality.

And people in this world don’t know Pokémon at all, they don’t know anything about Pokémon.

The most important thing is that Luochen’s god-level login system can log in to the game a year earlier than others.

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Their hearts were surging, and they vowed to become as powerful as this NPC!

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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.”