Immortal In The Magic World - Chapter 22

Young genius Ren Zhong, suffering from a terminal illness, chooses the human cryonics project. Upon awakening, he finds himself in a desolate wilderness, beneath a gigantic blue sun and a duo of silver-white moons. On this unfamiliar planet, relying on the resurrection to rewind time and accumulate experience, Ren Zhong is determined to become a warrior. After experiencing betrayal, being wanted, and judged, he resolves to rebel against this unjust world and establish a new world order through war.Compress infinite time into a moment; anything can happen.Rising from insignificance, walking the seams of time, reversing billions of years of enslavement.This is the story of an immortal man and his comrades breaking the shackles of fate.

As a virtuous wife, does it include tolerating his cousin, enduring his concubines, bearing his mother?

The handsome, skilled newbie livestreamer, Ji Zhiyao, has a dream.

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.”