MTL - Wukong Teaches Me To Build A Kingdom While I Teach Him To Create A Universe - v900 Chapter 182 Huyou started to start a farm! 12 Zuwu is going to make trouble again!

The road to immortality is full of dangers and obstacles. Let's see how a young slave of a prominent clan changes his destiny and creates his own legend. Thousands of years later, the world bows to him and refers to him as the Celestial Master or Heavenly Locust Emperor.......

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .

Accidentally brought to the Marvel world by a half-disabled main god space, Paqi really felt a lot of pressure.

Superheroes, S.H.I.E.L.D., Avengers, aliens… It’s always a war of the century.

In order to save himself, Patch felt that he had to do something.

It’s just that this move has turned the whole world upside down…

ps: [This book is also known as “The Black Hand Behind the Peerless God Pit in the Marvel World” and “The Marvel Subversion Road of the Two Main Gods in the Counterfeit”, a new book is uploaded, please collect it! Please recommend! Ask for all support! 】

- Description from novelbuddy

Xiao Xin, a Pokémon’s diehard powder, accidentally succumbed to death while using the game modifier, the soul passed through the Pokémon world, a child who accidentally swallowed a lightning stone in thunderstorms and was strangled by lightning.

On the body, the most important and most important, he also brought his props backpack in the game…

- Description from Qidian

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.”