The Seven Sisters and Their Hidden King - Chapter 363: Queenie’s Concerns

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.

one year later……

The people who had just started logging into the game saw that above the sky, Luo Chen was commanding his elf to start a shocking battle with Rift Seat, smashing the sky to smithereens.

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

But when the game’s world announcement sounded: “Congratulations to the player Luo Chen, defeating the sky lord Kaikongza!”

The whole world fell into an eerie silence.

…

- Description from novelbuddy

She was the Spirit Master of the Tea Hill. He was the Head of the Kunlun. They met each other by chance in Jiangnan. With many twists and turns, they got married. Unexpectedly, there were plots in store for them. After the resurrection, he forgot her… But she had his child… To meet him again, she endured the torture of the naga poison; for the people of the Tea Hill, she chose to be a devil… But fate still pushed her to a path without a turning back… She killed demons and devils but was used by others… Finally, she had to stand opposite to him… For the happiness and benefits of the three realms, she was incarnated as the Creation Goddess… She was the Spirit Master of the Tea Hill, Jiang Wuyou…

A different adventure novel!

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.”