My Xianxia Harem Life - Chapter 113 File

Warning: There will be a lot of explicit content. No one under +18 allowed.---------“Extremely Masculine Energy Physique, meets the host conditions, the crooked system is officially activated.”Walker who returned to his village unexpectedly receives a system.But something is not right, the system is very lus...[Today's task requires the host to vent his lust before dawn.][Complete the task, officially enter the extraordinary realm, and have the strongest practice method generated by the system.][If the task fails, you will suffer from severe impotence and will never get an erection for the rest of your life.]“Fuck...”

After a tear in reality pulls Kagari Shuya into a white room he discovers a futuristic interface for reincarnating in a different world. After looking through the different races and skills he unlocks a new race, Lucivault, a type of vampire with none of its characteristic weaknesses. All set to start his life in a new world, Shuya is confused to discover that he is enveloped in darkness. As it turns out something went wrong when he was transported and instead of appearing where he was supposed to, he appeared in an underground cave. Shuya faces untold dangers, runs for his life, before finding his way out of the underground world. After escaping he meets his Shishou and begins to learn to fight with a spear. There is also a cute black cat named Rollo.

Princess Leah wrote a suicide note ahead of her wedding.

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.”