MTL - I Really Don’t Know How To Practice - Chapter 860 Taoist will

[Invincible, showoff, face-slapping, feelgood]“Who is richer? Sorry, Every watch I have is worth billions. Money is just a number to me!”“Wanna fight? Fine, I won't even use my hands and feet. I've never lost a fight in my life!”“You like me? Sorry, even a cruise ship is not big enough to hold all the women I have. Haven't you seen the princess of Anenida lining up for me?”With the invincible system, everything can be easily accomplished.Please don't show off in front of me. I have a nickname called Face-slapping Zhang!

With a marriage contract forcefully done, he married her, and all she could do was comply, and resent him deeply for that and for all the following misunderstandings they faced, and she understood too late she loved him.

But after a life of misfortunes, she’s reborn to the very beginning, the day he told her they were married, and she was determined to cherish him in her second life!

Lin Mu Mu’s life goal is to : grow flowers and plants, and take care of Yun Ting.

Yun Ting’s life principles are : Love Lin Mumu, Love Lin Mumu, Love Lin Mumu!

- Description from Novelupdates

Su Ming obtained the full occupation system, omniscient and omnipotent, and accepted ten apprentices on the mountain according to the system tasks.

Ten years later, the system can finally let him go down the mountain.

Only then did he discover;

His eldest apprentice became an urban killer

The second apprentice is the richest man in the world,

The three apprentices are the Huaxia Soldiers

……

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”