Library of Heaven's Path 2: Eternal Destiny - Chapter 9: Die For Its Honor

Lucia grew up not knowing she was a princess.

This novel is also known as I Can Bring In-game Items Out

I am an ordinary person, just a supernatural being who has awakened my personal space.

When the second world of the overwhelming holographic game hits, in the game, the protagonist took out the mineral water in his personal space and took a sip before covering himself up.

This, this seems to be in the game?

Since then, items in the game can be brought out, and items outside can be brought in, and the life of the protagonist has undergone earth-shaking changes.

Flying into the sky and fleeing the earth, what is it like to cast beans into soldiers, holding a Pangu ax and stepping on the Zhuxian sword is nothing but ordinary.

- Description from novelbuddy

Travel through the Naruto world and be reborn as a dried persimmon ghost shark.

“As a dam maintainer, I carry two hundred catties of lime with me, which is very reasonable and reasonable, right?”

“The so-called unlimited physique means that you are in charge of physique, and I am in charge of unlimited.”

I kidnapped and robbed, didn’t pay my debts, beat up the elderly, bullied children, attacked others without telling the truth, and often killed my superiors and employers…

But I know that I am a good ninja.

I have the heart of a bodhisattva, the face of a vajra, and the means of demons. I walk in the darkness of the ninja world, but I pursue a bright future where everyone is like a dragon.

I, the dried persimmon shark, was born a miscellaneous fish, and swore that one day, I would smash this boring world dominated by blood theory.

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”