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... . The servants who catered to her at the first few weeks have all gone now. They disappeared when they realized that Mia would never return to power. It was then that Mia’s loneliness would begin. However, there was an exception.

“Your Highness, I’ve come to do your hair.”

It was Anne, a young maid with red hair. Anne arrived and bowed politely to the soldier standing guard. Then she steps into the prison. Though Mia was already numb to it, but the smell of the prison was terrible. T ...

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However, after a certain ability went out of control, the young chief once became a dangerous experimental subject 01, and fell silent for five years. When he reappeared, he was thrown into an escape game.
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[5] The three views of the role do not represent the three views of the author

Content tags: strong supernatural supernatural supernatural ability infinite flow
Search keywords: Protagonist: Ye Fei, Jian Lingxi ┃ Supporting roles: Handsome guys and beauties ┃ Others:

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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.”