MTL - Morning, the Heir - Chapter 1899 a bad news

Transmigrating to the disciples of the Demon Sect, and relying on the skill modifier to become a giant of the Demon Dao.

[Detected the technique “Blood Nerve”, relying on devouring blood to practice]

[Side effects: easily affected by the spirit contained in the blood, becoming bloodthirsty, bloodthirsty, mad, and even brain dead]

[Please wait a moment, the system is being modified…]

[Ding! The modification is complete, and the side effects are cancelled]

- Description from novelbuddy

Seven years ago, after their breakup, he disappeared without a trace.Now, he reappeared on the eve of her wedding, sparing no means in forcing her to marry him…With a certificate of marriage, he bound her mercilessly to his side.From there, this “Cinderella” began her journey as a wife of the business empire’s heir...Mrs Huo - composed, sharp-tongued, and freakishly smart.Mr Qin - wife-spoiler to no end and a complete “slave” to their daughter.Quality love story, one on one. You are welcome to get hooked on this story with us.

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.”

Unconditional obedience to him? Dream on! Regrettably, after marrying Tang Yuchen, An Ruo's daily thoughts were of escape, escape, and more escape! Someone grew furious, “You want to flee? The only way out is if you die, or I perish!” Fine, she chose death! Yet he laughed wickedly, “Woman, do you intend to kill the son in your womb?”