Picking Up Fragments in PUBG - Chapter 256: The Largest Shareholder of Huayi!

This book features a slice-of-life style with minimal system presence, welcome to enjoy.[Theoretically, this system can target any cognitive being in the universe.][After selecting a target, the host will randomly acquire the target's skill level and talent.][When the target is of the same gender, skill experience acquisition speed +50%, skill level cap -50%.][When the target is of a different species, trigger 404 aura, skill experience acquisition speed +100%, instant death probability +99%.][After a failed targeting, the punishment mechanism is activated, halving the host's basic stats, entering an absolute weak state, and resetting skill levels.]Traversing into this world, Bai Chuan Ze Ping observes this problematic system, then looks at the top student and beautiful girl of the class...Hmm, perhaps... this classmate could be a fine learning companion.PS: This book is also known as “My Talent Comes from My Girlfriend.”

Eira Hax, the daughter of a once-wealthy heiress, has spent her entire life in the shadows.Twenty-two years ago, her mother, a kind-hearted but naive woman, was deceived by her husband, a ruthless businessman. He stole her entire fortune and framed her for a crime, sending her to prison, unaware that she was pregnant and secretly battling terminal cancer.Eira’s mother died alone behind bars, but not before giving birth to Eira, entrusting her with a burning desire for revenge.Now, two decades later, Eira returns with one goal: to destroy the man who ruined her mother’s life—her own father.To do so, she strategically marries his most powerful rival, Callian Reed, a man as dangerous as he is influential. Together, they plot to destroy her father’s empire, piece by piece.But as Eira is pulled deeper into a world of business, power and revenge, she’s forced to confront her own problems and decide just how far she’s willing to go to avenge her mother.“I’m not your enemy, darling…you should know that by now.”“Callian, everything you do is not written in our contract. Why are you breaking it?”“The more I learn about you, the more I hate everyone who hurt you. So please, Eira, let me get rid of them for you.”

A wedding forged in vengeance, where love is the only risk they never planned for.“Let's get married,” Mia says, her voice trembling despite the fire in her eyes as she meets Stefan's guarded gaze. She needs this—needs him—even if he looks at her like she's just another complication.Stefan arches a brow, unimpressed. “And why would I do that?”“We both know what it's like to be betrayed by the men who raised us,” she replies, refusing to back down. “They stole our birthrights and handed them to someone else. The only difference is… you're the illegitimate one. I'm not.”He studies her—this heiress in designer armor, hiding rage beneath polish. “So your grand plan is a wedding band as revenge?”“No,” she says, stepping closer, close enough for him to smell the jasmine and gunpowder. “It's the only weapon they won't see coming.”Their fathers built empires by manipulation and control. Now, their children are making a vow—to burn it all down.Two shattered heirs. One dangerous alliance. A marriage built on vengeance.Mia Meyers was born to inherit her father's empire—until he handed it to his bastard son instead. Stefan Sterling knows rejection too well, discarded by a father who only valued power. Now, these rivals-turned-co-conspirators hatch a plan: marry for revenge, crush their fathers' legacies, and take what should've always been theirs.No love. No feelings. No divorce.But as lines blur between strategy and obsession, the real question becomes: can two enemies survive a marriage built not on trust—but on spite?

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.”