Beast World: Rise to Power with the Offspring System - Chapter 824 - 822 Murdered

[WSA 2025 ENTRY]“What is this for??”Draven, a Pentagon champion, searches for a real challenge that will test his true strength. However, all his opponents bore him.Then, without warning, he's thrown into a magical world. Here, everything your power, status, and even your worth depends on the color of your Status System I.D.His given goal? Protect the Verdant and lift the curse using his skill, the Veilbreaker.Sounds easy for the likes of him?Think again.Verdants are cursed worse than commoners who have not even the slightest ability!He will bleed every time he lifts a curse!And he has to face beasts, monsters, high-breed animals, higher I.D.s and even gods![You unsealed Naisha skill: Stealth][You obtain Stealth skill.]Challenge accepted!

Mo Ran thought becoming Chu Wanning’s disciple was a mistake.His shizun was really too much like a cat while he himself was a dumb pup who’d only slobber and wag his tail.Dogs and cats were different by nature; originally, the dumb pup didn’t want to extend his furry paws to that cat.He originally thought, dogs should be with dogs, like his shixiong, beautiful and tame like a cute Japanese Spitz, and the two of them together would surely be a match made in heaven.Yet, after having died and reborn, after having lived two lives, the one he hauled back each time to his den in the end was always the one he couldn’t stand at first: that snow-white kitty shizun.Dumb off the charts husky gong x proud, aggravated, big white cat shou Emperor of the cultivation world Mo Weiyu deceived elders and slaughtered ancestors, and committed all crimes and sins known to man. After ending his own life, he was reborn and transmigrated to the year he first became a disciple.In the shell of a boy held an old and weary soul. After coming back to life,truth after truths that had been hidden below the surface in the previous life floated to the top and broke through the waters one after the other.Of all the revelations, the one that stunned him the most was that the Shizun he had hated to the bone in his previous life had always been protecting him from the shadows…The heart of man can change; even demons and monsters can become compassionate and do good. Only, he had sinned deeply. Can the blood on his hands ever be cleansed?Novel written by *Meatbun doesn't eat meat*

The world is full of mysteries. Strange, seemingly unexplainable events occur more often than we may realize. A young boy may catch an illness no doctor can explain. An office may catch fire for no apparent reason. And perhaps, someone may die a sudden and unexpected death – their bodies blighted beyond recognition.

Some might believe that these events are merely freak accidents.

However, Ye Shaoyang knows otherwise.

The youngest inner disciple ever in the prestigious Daoist Maoshan Sect. Talented, handsome, and a hillbilly from the mountains who still uses a brick phone in the modern age.

Follow the tale of our quirky, snippy, but honorable hero, after he finally descends the mountains after fifteen years of being out of touch with normal society. Read on as he combats horrifying apparitions, charms ladies, and finds himself in all sorts of trouble along the way!

A story that delves into Daoism, Chinese sorcery, and the supernatural from Asian mythology.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”