Fire Chief vs. Surgeon: A Tale of Relentless Pursuit - Chapter 731: Wishing to Have Eight Hands

He lost the moment he thought he had finally won.An orphan. A child of unknown origins. And now...a captive at the hands of someone whose intentions remain unknown.Follow the journey of Adrian as he breaks through the slavery, journeys across dimensions and unravels secrets, buried deep from the eyes of the mortals.He must not only face the challenges that fate throws in his path but also his past....the past he had long tried to forget about.It's now or never!“The locked gates of the past await me. For they shall be the lands waiting for me to be conquered or they would be my nemesis.”

Victoria Monroe worked hard for three years during their hidden marriage to get pregnant, and she finally was, only to discover that he had a child with someone else.She proposed a divorce but was refused, and when she attempted to return to work, she found numerous obstacles.It turned out that this marriage was something he had planned for a long time, using the bond of marriage to cage her, clipping her wings and imprisoning her by his side.Sickly and obsessive, he whispered in her ear, “Victoria, no one else in this world loves you more than I do, don't even think about escaping!”But he was unaware that his beloved wife was already pregnant with his child.On a stormy night, as he rushed towards the child in the mistress's womb, blood soaked beneath Victoria Monroe.Eighteen years of affection were buried here, and she was utterly disheartened, leaving decisively.Later, at the engagement banquet of The Portoros Circle's Crown Prince, he finally found his little rose.Victoria Monroe, dressed in a magnificent gown, stunning beyond compare, was hailed as the Portoros Circle's Crown Prince, who knelt on one knee, reverently and restrainedly kissing the back of her hand.The always noble President Fordham was red-eyed and went mad...

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.”

The Revered Master, Yu Yan, known as the number one in the cultivation world, waited for sixteen thousand years, and finally took in a disciple. He taught her carefully, and took care of her diligently. He watched her as she slowly grew stronger as she comprehended the laws, and just as she was about to soar into prominence… she died!