Unlocking The Easy Mode Of Cultivation After Getting Married - Chapter 732 - 731: The Million Year Proclamation of the Dao!

A nuclear war ushered in the prosperity of human evolution! The higher the bloodline level, the stronger! The young Mo Tian, ​​awakened at the beginning of the S-class King Kong is not bad blood, incarnates the big muscle tyrant, killing all the way! If you are reasonable with me, be reasonable, and if you are not reasonable, you will be blown away!

The blood of King Kong is not bad for the first time to return to the ancestors…the second time to return to the ancestors…the Nth time to return to the ancestors, the blood of Pangu! (The killing is decisive, the extreme way pushes the flow horizontally, if you are not a virgin, do not enter if you are not happy)…

- Description from novelbuddy

Xia Yuqing is a shut-in+fujoshi from the 21st century. After an accident, she transmigrates into the body of a young princess forced into a political marriage to another country.

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.”

I made a game.