My Life with Narration - Chapter 335 - 332: Da Huang: Time to Run!

Eighteen years ago, she saved his life. Eighteen years later, he gave his heart to her.

He asked her if she was willing to be sexually abstinent for the rest of her life, yet he kept her busy day and night. To the public, he’s sexual impotent, but only she knows how sexually passionate he is.

In his special way, he let the entire world that she was his one and only!Eighteen years ago, she saved his life.

Eighteen years later, he gave his heart to her.

He asked her if she was willing to be sexually abstinent for the rest of her life, yet he kept her busy day and night. To the public, he’s sexual impotent, but only she knows how sexually passionate he is.

In his special way, he let the entire world that she was his one and only!

……………………………………………………………

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A Mysterious continent, with many powerful sect and countless strong one. Juvenile Zhou Heng with a mysterious black broken sword, from the original stone town out into this world of war. Ascended the throne of the world with only a sword in hand.

- Description from Novelupdates

Hoarding top-tier baddies, stealing people's wives, and cucking kings and emperors. That was Dapper’s daily routine. Life was sweet… until he caught the attention of the system enforcers.Liam, a teenage thief with a twisted way of thinking, died in the middle of a high-stakes heist. But just when he thought it was all over, he met a god, a failed god, who granted him a glitched system.Reincarnated into the body of a meek teenager named Dapper, Liam finds himself in a world ruled by magic, systems, and mythical creatures. This time, he’s determined to live the life he never could in his old one. The wild fantasies he once harbored are finally within reach… but at what cost?

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.”