MTL - Have You Written Your Will Today? - Chapter 438 If Hong Xing doesn't make love, then drag her out

Martin was a succubus who perished at the hands of the Sun God, struck down by a single divine arrow during the epic war between gods and demons. Meanwhile, Martin, a Ph.D. in literature and a seasoned movie enthusiast, lost his life in a car accident in August 2023. By some cosmic twist of fate, the souls of the two Martins converged within the chaotic currents of time and space, merging and eventually settling in the body of an eleven-year-old boy named Martin Myers, living in Los Angeles in 1996.A world without spiritual energy? Fortunately, as a succubus, I don’t need spiritual energy to cultivate; all I need is the essence of desire. Emotions—joy, anger, sorrow, and excitement—are all desires. As long as these emotions are directed at me, they can become fuel for my growth. Alright, let’s see what reliable ways exist in this world to stir people’s emotions en masse. Hmm, becoming a writer—sounds promising; and music, that could work too; but wow, Hollywood movies! They have a global reach; this is perfect! What’s that term again? Right—“Idea Recycler.” I’ll start with writing, but the ultimate goal is to become an international movie star. Acting skills, you say? Don’t worry—I’m a succubus, after all!Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to this novel. All characters, settings, and plot elements belong to the original author and copyright holder. This work is shared purely for entertainment purposes, with no intent to infringe on the original creator’s rights.

“God of Contracts: Strongest Businessman” is a story set in a vast universe where magic and business intersect. It follows a determined entrepreneur who aims to build an unassailable empire. The narrative is rich with diverse extraterrestrial races, each playing a role in the complex world of trade and alliances. The protagonist faces challenges beyond contracts, including the need for strength and supernatural abilities. As the story progresses, business and power become intertwined, leading to a climactic showdown that will decide the fate of their empire and the intergalactic order.

This is my debut novel, so I appreciate your patience. The initial chapters may be average, but I promise you'll witness an improvement in my writing as the story progresses.

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You are the ruler, I am a subject, you want loyalty, I’ll give you loyalty. You are the ruler, I am the subject, you want my sacrifice, I will sacrifice for you. This lifetime, we’ll only be ruler and subject…… cannot become the one who accompanies you to experience everything.

A deposed empress, a failure of a substitute. Charging into battle, he was the emperor, and she, his general. But within the intimacy of their military tent, he was her husband, and she, his wife.

But everything was star-crossed. For the one he loved the most, he would push her into hell again and again.

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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.”