MTL - Elite Doting Marriage: Crafty Husband, Aloof Cute Wife - Chapter 8 Coy Miss Man

To correct the mistakes of his past, a young man is forced to narrow the space between science and witchcraft, as he ventures on a quest to save his world from complete destruction.

The latest offering from the pen of the creator of “My Military Branches Can Evolve Infinitely”, Bimo Zhijian.---------------------------------------------The world has experienced a radical transformation. Source Qi has awakened and the apocalypse has descended.This is a catastrophe and also the beginning of a new epoch.Tang Yu somehow obtained a domain system, and while summoning warriors, producing equipment, developing his domain, drafting rules...as he looked back, he discovered that he was already standing at the apex of the era.

He swore that if he was given a second chance to live, he would live his life to the fullest.His life was full of misery but he was reincarnated in the body of the son of the strongest expert in the empire.He had the looks, wealth, and women. He was known as the “Handsome Playboy” and he didn't want to become a righteous protagonist.He awakened a system that can make him strong by making others feel the 7 sins towards him.He will collect many beauties and live to the peak of life.

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.”