The S-Classes That I Raised - Chapter 205 - Gaze (3)

Young Master He had always been a male god in the eyes of others.

Until one day, the god-like him died.

And he became the much detested white silk trouser-wearing second rich generation.

Male God He was unaffected by this.

In his previous life, he had sacrificed everything for his clan, now, he could finally break free from that tiring life.

The only thing was that he had gained a handicapped partner.

Initially, he thought his partner was just a weak, gullible and pure lamb.

In the end, a certain person changed entirely making everybody cry and shout daddy.

- Description from Novelupdates

When he woke up, Zhou Sui became a low-level Qi refiner in the world of immortality. Fortunately, he obtained the most precious Gu god bowl, which can refine various Gu insects.

Refining the Spring and Autumn Gu can prolong life and make you immortal.

The refining golden cicada Gu can give birth to dead people, flesh and white bones.

Refining the Dragon Elephant Gu to gain the power of the Dragon Elephant, the body of the Dragon Elephant, and the indestructibility of the King Kong

But the Gu he refined for the first time was the Infatuation Gu.

From then on, he discovered a bright road to cultivation.

The years change, the mountains and rivers change, but I am the eternal Zhou family.

- Description from novelbuddy

Mimizuku, a small girl with chains on her wrists and ankles and the numbers “332” branded onto her forehead, wanders into the Forest of Night seeking to be eaten by a monster. However, when the ruler of the monsters, the mysterious and beautiful “King of Night,” refuses to eat her, she tries to formulate a way to convince him otherwise.

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.”