Trapped with the CEO - Chapter 1685 Aron is Getting Married

[Battle in different worlds] [Get characters from all worlds as imperial spirits]

Blue Star, the arena of the heavens is coming.

Yang Fan, who traveled through time, knew almost all the opponents, and he who cheated, everyone won.

Others used the few imperial spirits as bodyguards, but he used them to form the Ten Thousand Realms Legion.

Unohanaretsu VS Kozuki Momonosuke?

Tsk tsk tsk, Yang Fan said Momonosuke must die…

“Bad Handsome” Yuan Tiangang VS “Sword” Li Xiaoyao?

“I bet on Li Xiaoyao! Stud…”

[Acquisition: Imperial Sword Art]

“The Female General of the Empire” Estes VS “Xialan” Bo Han Commander?

Who else needs to consider betting?

Estes: “I have seen Master!”

“Dead Knight” Ning Caichen VS “Grass Python Hero” Xu Xian.

“…”

Yang Fan looked at the crowd of imperial spirits from various mythological systems around him.

He stated that his goal was to suppress the heavens.

- Description from novelbuddy

Yohan Was a game maniac, he loves playing the cultivation game which was popular on the earth, he was one of the Famous players in the action genre, but unfortunately, he died while crossing the road, Truck Kun Hit him with lightning-fast speed.

“I am Going to die like this, I was about to get a breakthrough in the Heavenly Soul realm, I waited for six years for this day but Damn you, Truck Kun, you ruined my whole life” Yohan cursed truck Kun with his heart content.

A light struck on the young man who was In deep thought thinking about the woman he loves, unfortunately, A Lightning struck on his body And the Next moment He died.

when people saw that lighting struck on the particular area, The mob started gathering in that place, to see what is going on there.

Suddenly The body of the Young man started flickering with Red light and started shaking violently The next moment he opened his eyes.

“Where am i” Yohan mumbled and his memory of his previous life started to come into his mind.

“Shit, I Died And reincarnated in a Different World” The young man mumbled to himself while he found himself half-naked in the middle of the road while people were looking at him with wide-open eyes, The area around that place was destroyed by a Lightning strike.

“You shameless bastard what are you doing here ” A cold voice resounded in his ears, he looked behind in the direction of that voice.

“I Am a goner now” He mumbled when he saw a middle-aged man who was looking towards him with killing intent on his face.

A young man sat on a chair and looked out at the ocean. With one wisp of Spirit Qi, he could point anywhere on this vast and expansive world, pointing at any place that didn’t look right.

Someone once became the last one to wield a knife that could decapitate huge dragons and bathed in dragons’ blood. Someone once loved treating others to chicken soup, so he kept nine phoenixes in his backyard.

Someone once sat lazily on the top of mountains as his words flooded river banks, and his qi could hold a million soldiers back. Someone once moved mountains and shifted hills with just one brush, his paintings so captivating it could enchant immortals and deities.

That year, the warmth of spring made the flowers bloom. They were merely an ordinary butcher, a bookworm, a chicken farmer and a poor artist. This is the story of how a Low Level Martial World Continent was transformed into the Ultimate Fantasy Universe.

- Description from Qidian

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.”