SSS-Grade Cafe in Front of The Dungeon - Chapter 186

Asura, a noble in the kingdom of Silvara, spent his days quietly until his world ended. Betrayed by his beloved wife and then killed, he swore to get revenge on them in his late moments. Upon death, Asura somehow returned 20 years into the past. Prepared to get revenge on the woman who betrayed him.On his journey for revenge, he discovers true love, friendship, and a life-altering truth.A dark cult controls his fate like a game—even his beloved's betrayal was their work. He learns about his powers and strange bloodlines. Then, about this being his ninth and final rebirth! All to revive their god, using Asura as the perfect vessel.Vowing to destroy the cult's plot and protect his loved ones, Asura forges an alternative path.Becoming the Devouring Monarch

After mistakenly pointing all the attribute points to the treasure drop rate, Xiao Shi found that every time he kills, he will drop an item.

A mosquito was slapped to death, and a pill fell out.

After killing an evil spirit, a cheat book fell out.

Hacking a martial artist to death will drop out the opponent’s cultivation experience.

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- Description from novelbuddy

This novel is also known as The Silent Cherry And Plum Blossoms

This is an age-gap story. Bai Fumei Gentle Royal Sister & Ruan Meng Xueba Girl HE Xiang

Tao Anzhi: Yanxi, do you love me?
Yan Xi: Tao Tao, of course I love you.
Tao Anzhi: So do you like me?
Yan Xi: Tao Tao… I can’t…

Content tags: A match made in heaven
Protagonist: Yan Xi, Tao Anzhi ┃ Supporting roles: Gao Jiming, Liao Chengyu, Xu Jiaer, Yang Mengmeng ┃ Others: cultivation, age difference

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”