Future News: My Phone Mutated - Chapter 236 - Schedule The Surgery

Qin Huai has traveled to a fantasy world where demons are rampant, and heroes coexist. He has no background and no qualifications for cultivation. Until that day he became an apprentice in a pharmacy and began to practice with his brothers.

He discovered that experience balls fell out of his master and senior brothers.

He followed the apprentice to grind the medicine.

“Ding! 【Pharmacy】experience value +3!”

Master and brothers practice martial arts.

“Ding! You picked up a [Nursing Qi Gong Essence (White)], [Nursing Qi Gong] experience value +3!”

He killed the bandits, and actually picked up the opponent’s martial arts.

“Ding! 【Expression Concentration Skill】experience value +13!”

The master said that Qigong is not good at attacking and attacking, there is an upper limit of practice, and it can only prolong life.

But when Qin Huai picked up his experience and forcibly picked up Qi Yang Gong to the 50th floor, the qi in his body was like a real dragon, his pushing hands were like a stormy wave, and his offense and defense were integrated.

People in the world say that the two kinds of exercises are in conflict, and if you practice them forcibly, you will explode and die.

Qin Huai picked up the experience and directly skipped the practice process in one step, without any side effects!

When Qin Huai practiced more and more exercises, he suddenly discovered that those exercises interacted in his body, evolving stronger skills.

…

Qin Huai, who was able to gain experience, began to wander among the various forces.

He saw bones and raw flesh, living another life.

He saw the evil spirit cooking thousands of people, and his evil spirit was soaring.

He saw Buddha statues chanting scriptures in temples, and the Sanskrit sounds were like mantras.

Qin Huai picked up experience silently in order to survive in the troubled times.

- Description from novelbuddy

One day, when a novelist woke up from a restless sleep,he realized that he had transformed into his 12-year-old self.

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.”