Virtual Realm: My Venom Can Slay Gods - Chapter 10: That Tricky Old Geezer

After receiving his terminal illness diagnosis, Chu Xun could finally let go of everything. The most important thing of being alive is after all, one’s own happiness.

Dumping a jerk, getting back on his retarded colleagues, firing his dumbass boss, staying in a luxurious house, enjoying a feast and bedding a young, energetic and handsome guy—Chu Xun very coolly did what he didn’t dare to do in the past!

All his savings were spent and as he laid down waiting for his death, the doctor apologetically told him, “I’m so sorry, we misdiagnosed.”

“…” Chu Xun felt faint.

He did another checkup and thought, he did feel unwell recently though?

The doctor looked grim.

Chu Xun’s heart skipped a beat. “Don’t tell me it wasn’t a misdiagnosis after all. Am I sick?”

Doctor: “You do not have a terminal illness, but you are… You are pregnant.”

Chu Xun: “???” Ermm, he’s a guy?

And later, the child’s father, that young, energetic and handsome man, who also happened to be a 26-year-old billionaire, Lin Yanchen, appeared and handed out a marriage certificate already signed by him. “I’ll take responsibility. Let’s get married.”

Chu Xun only realised now that his 30-years-late love life, as though blooming blossoms, was flooding in.

- Description from Novelupdates

In this world, only if you are strong, can you protect the people you love.

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.”

All Things of this World, Turn to Ashes, Flowing Blade-like Flame!