MTL - Escape from Marriage 100 Days: Sweet Wife Steals a Treasure - Chapter 561 What is the meaning of bad color?

Gripes have their origins and debts have their creditors. We haven’t crossed each other in days past or present, nor formed any grudges. I am but duty-bound to carry this out, so apologies in advance!

A fickle, decadent, wilful person going through life like it’s a game.

An experienced, logical mind that’s above feelings.

This was a relationship that had started off with “Carpe Diem”, but slowly turned into a bloodless, psychological battle. They shared a mutual distrust, but also mutual attraction. As they suspected and tested each other, challenging each other’s limits, they both fell into the enemy’s hands with their eyes wide open. Sentiments growing amidst ignorance, they finally, were caught in their own traps.

Winner takes all,

Loser stands small.

- Description from Novelupdates

Ten thousand years after Carlotta's accidental fall, pure humans have long been extinct, genetically evolved orcs dominate the world, they are valiant and warlike, possessing near-perfectly strong physiques and extraordinary fighting strength, the only drawback is that females are scarce. The only drawback is the scarcity of females. Male orcs will burst into heat when they reach adulthood, and will go crazy if there is no female to appease them. When the only pure human girl with sss-level guidance ability comes to the future of the orc world, the whole continent goes crazy. When learned that she was born pregnant body, can for the heir of the king beast breeding top pure blood offspring, all parties big brother is scrambling to pander to snatch broken skull, just to be able to get the beauty favor, and her to make baby to raise pups ......

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.”