MTL - Phoenix Destiny - Chapter 842 Reappearance

Kurogami Ichiro was desperate because he couldn’t achieve what he wanted when he once started his martial arts path at age of 8!

[Ding! You get 1 Stone Block!][Ding! You get 1 Dirt Block!]Bob the builder! Oop sorry cannot anger the copyright God on summary alone.Ben is a great uncle…. Yes he was living a poor photographer for daily news paper named…. Okay this gonna make the God angry, let’s try again.Ben is your average construction worker, one day he suddenly find himself surrounded by darkness. He was confused how he found himself in here, but a system screen appear in his eyes.

As the leader of bandits, Yan Jinyi has been a bully for twenty years, and she ended up causing her own death. The next thing she knows, she wakes up and finds that she has become the Second Young Mistress of the Huo Family. Wielding her knife, Yan Jinyi starts to throw her weight around conceitedly again. Young Master Huo says, “If I’m still single, I’ll probably marry my sister-in-law.” Third Young Master Huo says, “If I could turn back time, I would have vied with my brother to marry my second sister-in-law. Miss Huo says, “If I were a man, my second sister-in-law would be my woman!” A CEO says, “I thought I was roguish enough, but I didn’t expect Yan Jinyi to be more of a hooligan than I am!” The Best Actor says, “Huo Xishen, why are you still not divorced?” Second Young Master Huo points to Yan Jinyi and says, “She is mine.” Rumor has it that the second daughter-in-law of the Huo Family can beat a home wrecker up and is especially good at making money. Countless bigwigs are lining up to make a cuckold of Huo Xishen.

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.”