Mom's Antics on Social Media Went Viral - Chapter 225 - : Is That Kid Me?

One god, one faith, one world, one mage… I am the only mage in the world.

- Description from Ptwxz (translated)

She was the Spirit Master of the Tea Hill. He was the Head of the Kunlun. They met each other by chance in Jiangnan. With many twists and turns, they got married. Unexpectedly, there were plots in store for them. After the resurrection, he forgot her… But she had his child… To meet him again, she endured the torture of the naga poison; for the people of the Tea Hill, she chose to be a devil… But fate still pushed her to a path without a turning back… She killed demons and devils but was used by others… Finally, she had to stand opposite to him… For the happiness and benefits of the three realms, she was incarnated as the Creation Goddess… She was the Spirit Master of the Tea Hill, Jiang Wuyou…

Blue Kent, also known as Ice King, is a Dominant Omega who despises Alphas. But for his new book, he needs an Alpha whom he can use as a model for his main character.Luckily for Blue, an Extremely Dominant Alpha, Winter Dumont, comes into his life and offers to be used as a model for his book character.This offer isn’t made without personal interest. Winter is a scumbag who likes conquering Omegas with fierce personalities.Blue just happens to be an Omega who fits perfectly into Winter’s ideal prey.With Winter relentlessly chasing Blue, will he be able to withstand temptation due to his hatred for Alphas or will Winter’s eccentric personality change his views about Alphas?To know, tune in to the chaotic story of this gloomy x sunshine duo.

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.”