Kazekage Ninja: The Rise of the Hidden Sand - Chapter 9: Bet He’s Up to No Good

I possessed a third-rate villain who died in every route of my favorite game.

But I want to live.

“If he’s being badass, I’m gonna plant my own crops. If he messes with me, he will not live past next year.”

Homebody Zhao Hai brought ‘QQ Farm’ along in his traversal to another world and resided within the body of a fallen noble. His fief was a black land which nothing could be planted, and more importantly, he even had a peerlessly powerful fiancee, who was actually the successor of a duchy and future Grand Duchess!

Even more importantly, he is a magical and martial cripple who could not learn magic and martial arts. His crippling was very thorough.

“I can’t learn magic, but I have the farm. You dare attack me? I’ll release bugs to eat up your rations and crops, and put pesticides and weed agents into your water sources to make your lands grow weeds. See if you dare to attack me. What? You wanna hire killers to assassinate me? Hehehe. I’ll hide inside the little house in my farm and see how you can attack me. When you leave, I’m gonna terminate your country’s crop productions, and then all of your people will revolt. See if you dare to kill me.”

Watch how this somewhat black hearted hobo uses his QQ Farm in the world of swords and magic to become a globally known nightmarish existence.

- Description from novelupdates

A male university student, Yu Qingtan, had transmigrated. He became a reserve little girl at the Cultivation World’s Tianxiang Pavilion. Take a close look at himself? Visit the boudoir of girls from the same period? Share feelings with a bestie? Not a chance, business would start soon, and he was still thinking about these things? Did he want to become the laughingstock among the many transmigrators? Yu Qingtan, she panicked! What to do? Waiting Online , quite urgent!

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.”