Rolling love - Chapter 36

In a world of magic and monsters, I carved out my own empire. Hellfire Studios - my brainchild, my legacy.It all started with “The Demonfather” - a blatant copy from my past life, sure, but this world had never seen anything like it. Humans, elves, dwarves - they all fell in love with it. Critics raved, audiences cheered, and suddenly, I was on top.But the world thought I was a one-hit wonder. They had no idea what was coming.I unleashed “The Lord of the Rings” upon them. The result? Critics were left speechless, fumbling for words to describe what they'd witnessedBut why stop at movies? This world was stuck in the past, so I dragged it into the future. I created computers, birthed video games, and watched as everyone from imps to elf elders became addicted to pixels and polygons.Still not satisfied, I turned to music. I crafted stars, produced hits, and soon had the entire realm dancing to my tunes.But even that wasn't enough. Comics, manga, cartoons, anime, novels - I introduced them all. I flooded this world with stories and art forms they'd never dreamed of.Before long, people weren't just consuming my creations - they begun worshipping me. They started calling me “The Lord of Entertainment.”

Other people’s bad reputation, if not because of themselves, then it’s slandered by others. Jing Wan’s bad reputation wasn’t because of herself, but schemed by her future husband. Hong Yuan’s bad reputation wasn’t caused by others, but of his own design, only for the sake of marrying the woman he has had eyes on for two lifetimes! One unable to take a bride, one unable to marry. Because he was the number one handsomest man, but she wasn’t the number one beauty. So it was still her who has earned? What the hell?

Zou Yue jumped to the side, dodging an extended claw of a growling zombie.

A pair of warm hands gripped his small waist from behind and pulled him over to a sturdy chest. The same pair of hands slowly groped his chest.

“Brother fan w—what are you doing?!” Zou carefully looked up at him.

Fan Xui smirked mysteriously at him and removed the huge shades stylishly. A clear pair of eyes met Zou’s challengingly. “since I saved you just now, why don’t you give me a kiss?”

“you… you can see!!! Aren’t you blind!!!” Zou Yue glanced in shock. He pushed himself for of his body.

Fan Xui laughed out loud, gently caressing Zou’s long black hair. “are you gonna leave me now?,” he continued groping his barely their chest through his girly tank top.

“Fuck yeah!! Let go you poser.” he pushed him away and started shooting the zombies outside with renewed passion. Fan suddenly caught his wrist. “You bastard, what are you doing, let go of my hand. The zombies are coming!!!”

“Hmm okay,” Fan Xui let go. He swiftly snapped a fluffy handcuff snugly on his wrist, tying them both together. “Now we are tied together for live and death,”

“FAN. XUI!! Get this off of me!” Zou growled at him, but the young man just laughed happily.

“Sigh, you are beautiful even when you are angry, dear,” Fan Xui whispered and pulled him up for a passionate kiss. He gently bit those soft lips and moaned. “Delicious,”

Letting go, he slowly waved his hand towards the upcoming zombies and they are reduced to ashes.

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.”