Cultivating In Secret Beside A Demoness - Chapter 782 - : We Walk The Same Path

Mo Chu was reborn. She opened her eyes to find herself in a world where a thousand years had passed. The docile animals and plants became very aggressive, and elemental abilities that existed only in stories and legends now appeared before her eyes! Fortunately, upon waking up, Mo Chu gained a nice-guy brother who had a sister complex. Unfortunately, she had a one-in-a-million sensitive constitution, so she couldn’t consume 99% of the available food. However, there would always be a solution. If she couldn’t eat the food of this era, couldn’t she come up with new food? And so, she made fries, grilled fish, beggar’s chicken, and various other delicacies that were not available in this future world. As a glutton, Mo Chu was satisfied with this outcome. However…

After transmigration, Qiao Sang found herself dressed as a junior high school student.Then came an exam.But wait, what kind of exam is it???“What is the final evolutionary form of stinky loach called?”“What are the planets where humans have migrated.”She is totally confused.Welcome to the world of beasts!

This is a world where mountains, rivers, vegetation, animals, machinery, undead, elements… can all become war beasts.

This is a world dominated by beastmasters.

The swaying star dragon bird above the nine heavens.

A lightning elf wielding a long whip in a thundercloud.

The giant whales of the vast seas are entrenched in the mountains and seas in the depths of the ocean.

The ghost of the flame shadow jumping in the unquenchable candle.

Ji Feng flipped through the Book of Starry Sky in his hand and created one myth after another in this vast world of beasts.

Embark on a path that is unique to its own creator.

- 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.”