MTL - Divine Hint: Reporting An Escaped Convict From The Start - Chapter 121 Auction, the sealed magic weapon (please collect and subscribe)

Chu Jiao had always suffered from the quick changing nature of human relationships since little and had never tasted the feeling of being doted on. She was suddenly informed that her existence was only a few strokes of a pen in a novel. All her suffering was set by the author in order to make the male and female leads succeed.

She wasn’t willing nor could she accept the truth.

For vengeance, she bound herself to the “Supporting Female Carnal Desire System”. In order to survive and go back to the original world, she needed to kick down the female lead and take on the mission of catching the male lead and to clear the conditions, she needed——bo-body fluids?

Originally, she only planned to use her body without the intention of losing her heart but she never imagined that she would over and over again meet people that would carefully place her in the palm of their hand and spoiled her dearly.

They paid her with sincerity so she might as well return it with deep feelings.

Ultimately, she discovered that everything was actually love.

As the stars move and the time turns, you’ll like me no matter what I look like.

Zhang Yifan is actually a good person, that is, the virtue of being unwilling to sit when you can lie down, not willing to stand when you can sit, and not willing to walk when you can stand …

In order to achieve this goal, he can only continue to work hard …
Just don’t know why, he somehow has great achievements in the science and technology world …..

Zhang Yifan: “I don’t know, I’m also very strange …”

- Description from Uukanshu

Zhouzhou was born with a lack of fortune, and after eating the Taoist temple into bankruptcy, she was finally driven down the mountain to beg for food. But inadvertently, she found a long-term source of sustenance.After adopting little Zhou Zhou, Madam Qin immediately sent a message to her youngest son, “Look, you have a daughter!”Qin Lie, who was supposed to be delighted at becoming a father, remained expressionless and said, “Send her away.”The young tyrants of the Qin family, who were supposed to be happy about having a little sister, looked disdainful and said, “We don't want her. She only knows how to cry, not fun at all.”Even the Qin family's arch-enemies were eagerly waiting to see Zhouzhou bankrupt the Qin family.However, Qin Lie signed contracts every day until his hands were sore, and the Qin family thrived, securing their position as the wealthiest family. Even the crippled seventh brother of the Qin family became able to run and jump.At a banquet, the young tyrants of the Qin family surrounded Zhouzhou, trying to please her.“Sister, we'll give you all the delicious food!”“Sister, what kind of story do you want to hear today? Brother will tell you!”Qin Lie walked straight over, picked up the little girl, and glanced coldly at his nephews, declaring ownership, “She's my daughter!”

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.”