Crimson Overlord - Chapter 223: Bonus - : Memory of the Past 4: Her 1st time Second Half*

On the first day of their flash marriage, Fu Chenlie proclaimed to Wen Ran: 'I will absolutely not engage in any improper relations with you.'On the second day of their flash marriage, Fu Chenlie kissed Wen Ran.Wen Ran: 'Didn't you say you wouldn't engage in a relationship with me?'Fu Chenlie: 'I also said, don't talk back!'

In the Cyberpunk era, the Corporate Alliance dominated the world, with humans and witches alike serving as corporate cash cows, enslaved by advanced technology.Changes were thus unveiled, and Xu Yang, refusing to become a corporate slave, resolved to flee. He intended to rescue the adorable yet powerful witches from the clutches of the giant corporations, embarking on a path of innovation!

With the revival of spiritual energy and the breakdown of the order of species, it is a difficult test whether human beings can still stand at the top of the biological chain.

(There is already an old book, The Strongest Descends in the City, you can read it.)

- 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.”