MTL - Pursuing Immortality - Chapter 357 Downhill

That night, she was dragged to the Bureau of Civil Affairs. Wait, after getting the marriage certificate, the husband ran away? And his identity can’t be found? OMG, did she marry a human or a ghost?

Disheveled, she entered the entertainment industry and almost got sexually assaulted by a director due to the unspoken rule. Young Master Moh suddenly reappeared, and that director was tortured before getting cancelled.

During a shoot, she almost died since her enemy wanted to destroy her. Then, hundreds of mysterious soldiers arrived and smashed everything. The producer was exposed of corruption and his life got destroyed.

She always fights back and takes revenge, not taking the high road.

What? A woman is after her man? No tolerance! She barged into that woman’s home and whooped her ass. She said afterward, “How dare you touch my man?”

Young Master Moh had to cover his forehead; he needed to teach her how to behave like a senior officer’s woman.

The heavens and earth change when the blood phoenix descends.

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.”

It began with an accident, or maybe a miracle is a better term. Three souls dying by different strokes. One died in glory and blood; One died, betrayed but glad it was over; One died poor and alone. Then on the child’s fifth birthday, the three sleeping souls awakened. Three souls, one body, two desires, and containing all the powers each had in their last life. Were they destined for greatness? No. But when the past comes to haunt them, their home taken away, they have to make a decision… May it be as simple as a majority vote.“Let’s squash them!”“...can we just run away?“Were you never taught to aim for the eyes?”