1000 Years Later, Even My Weakest Follower Has Become A Demon King - Chapter 194 - 194 Morton (1)

Gu Fei, a rookie who has not survived three episodes in the apocalypse, traveled to ancient times with space and became a girl in the Hou Mansion.

As soon as I arrived, my house was ransacked and sold.

​​It was finally bought back by her family. After three years of severe drought in her hometown, there was no harvest. Gu Fei and her family fled the north.

Along the way, countless people died of hunger. Gu Fei: Don’t be afraid, there is food in our space.

Bandits and refugees were rampant on the way forward. Gu Fei: Don’t be afraid, we have weapons in our space.

After all the money was spent, Gu Fei led his family to farm and open an inn to make a fortune, and by the way, he gained a little overlord’s crown prince.

The innocent prince: My wife can always conjure up many strange things. My wife must be a little fairy.

- Description from novelbuddy

Suddenly a high school student Subaru Natsuki has been summoned to another world on the way back from the convenience store. With the biggest crisis of his life being summoned to another world and no sign of the one who summoned him things become worse when he is attacked.

After the hard struggle of a post-80s Shen Feiyang, he met with a tragic car accident in his fifties. When he again opened his eyes, he did not see the white walls of a hospital, nor had he arrived at the netherworld. Instead, he had transmigrated into the body of the post-50s young girl, Shen Yunfang.He had transmigrated into an era where people could not get enough to eat or sufficient clothes to wear.Humph, such hardships could not defeat a wise woman who had battled through society for half her life. Watch as she, with a chicken in her left hand and a duck in her right, carries a chubby baby on her back and sings triumphantly along the way.

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.”