PREVIEW

... andsome! "

The last sentence made Yin Shaojie's face a little better.

He snorted. "That's worth mentioning? I'm taller than him and I'm better than him. I want to know that I look better in clothes."

When Mu Xiaoxiao heard it, he pulled him and walked over there.

This look, the rows of clothes made her even more excited.

"Wow, there are all kinds of uniforms!"

Yin Shaoxian raised her eyebrows at her, "Are you trying to change the subject on purpose? We a ...

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Once she crossed through, she actually became the disfavored third WangFei?

Once she woke up, her family’s WangYe actually staged ‘a man and a woman’ play in front of her face?

Fine! In that case, she would also give her support: ‘365 seconds! I’ll let you feel high until you grow old! Standing on the side, watching you and her continue performing this play!’

In the end, she was thrown into the woodshed.

In a study room, a housekeeper came and reported: “WangYe, WangFei was cheating when she gambled at the casino. She was chased by people and ran to a crowded street.”

WangYe: ‘As she wished.’

‘WangYe, WangFei opened a nightclub and became the boss.’

‘As she wished.’

Finally, ‘WangYe, WangFei sent a divorce letter and asked you to sign.’

A certain Wang flipped his table: ‘She’s still not satisfied even after turning everything inside out!’

Opening a nightclub, mingling in a casino, censuring a prince, see how she played around this ancient era.

- Description from Novelupdates

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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.”

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