Ferocious Boss: Hubby, Let’s Get Married - Chapter 4417

In the vast and boundless continent Cangtu, there were ancient sects governing the Ten Old Domains, unworldly immortal clans beyond the Blue Sky, and primordial demon gods dominating the dark abyss that together created a great number of brilliant stories over the long course of the history.

In this very world, there was a boy, named Lin Xun, who embarked on his journey to the pinnacle of strength alone through cultivation and spiritual tattoo inscribing.

Escaping alone from the Mine Prison where he had been living since he was adopted by Master Lu, Lin Xun knew nothing about his identity but the little information his adopter, Master Lu, had told him. With two ancient spiritual tools Master Lu gave to him before the destruction of the Mine Prison, Lin Xun started his journey to Ziyao Empire, where he is supposed to find out the truth of his lost Spiritual Vessel and the person who slaughtered his family, leaving him orphaned.

Will he be able to unlock the mysteries of the two magic treasures, unveil the secrets of his identity and create a legend of his own?

In the last life, Lin Yu Tong chose to fly with Shen Jun for his own happiness, whereby he ended up creating an irreparable regret for a lifetime. However, such a contribution has not been able to exchange the happiness of a lifetime. Shen was derailed and Lin Yu Tong had an accident.

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.”

No sign in, no punch card.

Do not rely on breathing, do not rely on walking, do not rely on heartbeat.

The system is produced in one step

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