The Farmer's Eldest Daughter Has a Spatial Pocket - Chapter 1067 - : Very Strange

As an ordinary newly graduated college student, Lin Zaozao unexpectedly found herself caught up in the trend of transmigration and transformed into a complete fool weighing a whopping 280 pounds.

As if being dimwitted wasn’t bad enough, there was also a large black mole on her face that made her look incredibly ugly.

Though looks did not matter much, what was worse was that through an arranged marriage by the government, she ended up marrying five disabled men.

Her five husbands were a blind man, a lame man, a deaf man, a mute and a paralyzed man.

Along with herself, a dimwit, they formed quite a congregation of disabled people.

Before she even had time to bemoan her misfortune, a gaming system gave her a skill – the ability to transfer anyone’s injury or disability onto herself, before promptly disappearing.

Facing the system’s various unfair treatments, Lin Zaozao could only swallow her grievances.

However, the more she interacted with her five disabled husbands, the more she realized there was more to them than meets the eye…

Kai’s life was small—coffee-stained mornings, cracked recipes, and a system in his head that tweaked toasters and dough like it was nothing. Then the sky shattered. Aliens—Skraiths, jagged and brutal—invaded, tearing his city apart with green-glowing weapons and relentless claws. Superhumans rose to fight back, fire and lightning blazing through the chaos, but Kai’s world crumbled with them.Hiding in his apartment, Kai stumbles on blood—human and alien, smeared on his wall after a superhuman battle. His system, once just a tinker’s tool, awakens, offering him a choice: mimic their powers, temporary and wild, through the blood itself. Desperate, he takes it—stealing pyrokinesis, then electrokinesis, then kinetic energy, each power burning through him, fading fast. But it’s not enough. Armed with a humming Skraith weapon and a body tougher from alien blood, Kai joins a ragtag crew of enhanced fighters—Liv, Rylan, Jace, and Tucker—scraping to survive in a warzone where every shadow hides death.As Skraiths swarm and the city burns, Kai’s system pushes him deeper, analyzing, integrating, crafting minor enhancements—durability, strength, sparks of power that could make him a target or a savior. Government factions, rogue scientists, and the aliens themselves start sniffing around, drawn to his strange tech and blood-stolen abilities. By the time Kai crafts his first super-powered enhancement—an artificial strength boost—he’s no longer just a tinkerer. He’s on the edge of something bigger, something dangerous, where blood and sparks could forge a hero—or break him entirely.In a world unraveling, Kai’s fight for survival becomes a desperate race to master his system, outrun the Skraiths, and confront the truth: the power he’s chasing might destroy him—or remake the world.

Every trace of my entire youth is engraved with the same name.

When I see the trees on the street and the clouds on the horizon, I will think of him unconsciously.

I remember the bubble tea he ordered for me, and the sparklers he lit up for me.

Those memories supported me through difficult days and made me think I was special at one point.

When I was young, I often wondered, is it possible? Even if it is one in ten thousand, what if I am the heroine in his story?

I have said goodbye to him countless times, on the phone, on WeChat, face to face, every time without pressure, because I know there will be another meeting.

But this time is different, Xu Jiamu, this time I really want to say goodbye to you.

“Goodbye, Xu Jiamu.”

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”