Battle Royale of the Sinners - Chapter 501 New Demon God

Being reborn into the Naruto world should be a joyful thing for anime nerds, but goose, what’s the trouble with being reborn to the newly born Naruto Uzumaki! And he’s still his naughty Naruto! To put it simply, it is a normal person who transmigrated into Naruto Niang, who was forcibly broken by the people of Konoha Village into a black deep cripple (fog) betrayal.

Tag: Transform into Lily Naruto

- Description from novelbuddy

Reincarnated into the Douluo Continent, inheriting the Emerald Scorpion Martial Soul, with no other options—what should you do if you’re forced to play with poison? Chen Ming declares: “If I’m going to play with poison, I’ll make sure to excel at it. As a transmigrator, even playing with poison, I’ll set an example worth following.”(Anti-Tang San, multiple female leads, no affiliation with the Spirit Hall, self-created divine position.)Raw Title: 斗罗：翡翠毒皇

In a person’s life, three percent depends on hard work, seven percent depends on talent, and ninety percent depends on appearance.

Ding Mu, originally an ordinary person with a little handsome, a little money, and a little smart, could only live an ordinary life with a little luxury and a little glory.

By chance, Ding Mu wanted to download Meitu Xiuxiu, but got a real-life beautification system of aliens.

- 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.”