MTL - I Can Turn into a Fish - v3 Chapter 370 Dog blood

In his previous life, everyone envied Lu Ye, the Nine-Lives Celestial Lord, not only because he had nine lives, but also because he had eight stunningly peerless beauties.Who could have imagined that when Lu Ye was striving to become a Heavenly Dao Saint, all eight of his partners would strike together, delivering a fatal blow!Nine Heavens Sword Maiden: “I am the Lord of the Nine Heavens Sword, but because of you, everyone thought I was just a sword servant. Lu Ye, you deserve to die!”Red Lotus Fairy: “Senior Brother, don’t blame me. If it weren’t for you, I would have long become an immortal couple with him. I don’t want to become an immortal; I just want to be with him forever!”Vermilion Bird Demon Empress: “Lu Ye, hahaha, when you slaughtered the demon clan, did you ever think that I am also a demon? You said they would harm me, but did you know that the one who has always harmed me is you!”***When time reverses, the eight empresses return to the past.Lu Ye finally realizes that if the melon is forcibly twisted, it won’t be sweet. So, he decides not to twist it anymore.Now, he wants to see how these women will live their stunning lives without him!

What the hell is this? What the hell happened here?

“I’m in desperate need of money to pay Grandmother's medical fee. I will marry Charles instead of Yvonne as soon as I get the money.”

When her sister Yvonne ran away from the wedding, Autumn was forced to pretend to be Yvonne and marry Charles. Her only wish was to get a divorce after a year. Charles is rich and powerful. His name had been linked to innumerable ladies. He had different girlfriends for every day of a year. Neither of them had expected that they would fall in love with each other.

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.”