Otherworld Nation Founding Chronicles - Chapter 111 — The One—Eyed and the Hawk III

Anna Jones, an Australian travelled with her fiancé Lu Jinhu to marry in his home country, only to find out that she has been duped by him and robbed of everything that she owns. A quirk of fate allows her to marry CEO Hou Yi, who was meant to on the same day marry his finance Yang Lin, who in fact married Lu Jinhu. Marriage for Anna, started as a plan to gain some measure of revenge on Lu Jinhu, and for Hou Yi to prevent Lu Jinhu from obtaining the family company however fate had something different in store for them. Not only did they achieve their initially goals, but their relationship turned into something else, that could last a lifetime despite the cultural differences and the trouble Lu Jinhu and Yang Lin caused them.

Yun Xiangxiang was a well-regarded celebrity in her previous life.

Hu Feng, a high school student, accidentally embarked on the road of modifying the world.

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.”