My Two-sided Cultivation: Starting From Collecting Experiences - Chapter 34

On his wedding day, they killed his soon-to-be wife and the vast majority of her family.He watched a drunken Interstellar Beast Master and his Beast rip apart those he knew as if they were paper.But the next day, everything was covered up.They were told that it was all an accident.No matter what he did, he was told again and again that it was just an accident. An accident with casualties that occurred while a heroic Beast Master was saving people in the line of duty and there were just a few casualties.But he was there, he saw the glee of the drunken Beast Master as he and its creature rampaged!But in Vael’nir, a world where interstellar Beast Masters were considered Guardians who protected the masses from Entropic Beasts and Vagrant Beast Masters, getting any justice or revenge for his wife and her family was going to be an impossibility.What could he, a weak human do against the terrifying Interstellar Beast Masters- some who were so powerful that they participated in wars in space and could travel to neighboring Colony Planets with their bodies alone?He only had his rage and anger as he memorized the face of the Interstellar Beast Master that destroyed everything he held.He was powerless to do anything until one day…a light fell from the skies and hit him, and he found a small six-tailed fox curled around his body when he woke up.A Beast.A Beast unlike any others he had ever heard of before.And just maybe…a possibility for revenge!—#Dark Fantasy, #Sci-fi, #Ruthless, #Beast Taming, #Cybernetic Humans…and more

“Seek poetry within rigorous logic, understand the essence of existence in endless exploration.” —Qiao ZeWelcome to a school prodigy novel without a system, where intelligence crushes all, for your appreciation!PS: This text is a light-hearted daily life story of a school prodigy.Readers who do not enjoy slice-of-life stories, please consume with caution.

“Wife...”“Not wife, ex-wife!!” She gritted her teeth, glaring at the handsome man who tried to please her.“Wife...”“Get lost! Turn around, walk ten meters forward, open the door, and leave, no need to see you off!” Looking at the flattering smile on his face, she finally couldn’t hold back anymore. She kicked him, then turned around, tears streaming down her face.The groom didn't show up for the wedding, yet he treated her tenderly, only to realize it was his way of humiliating her. The love she gave finally had a return when he admitted he loved her. On her most precious day, he gave her the most painful blow again. Was that unbearable scene the “gift” from him and his first love? After signing a divorce agreement, she truly felt that her marriage to him was just a joke. However, when she remarried, at the wedding, he domineeringly tore the wedding dress from her body.Facing the man she once loved the most, she smiled calmly: “Ex-husband, can you ever stop messing around?”

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.”