MTL - Protect Our Patriarch - v6 Chapter 90 Crystal Ancient Artifact! News of Crystal Heart

On the day he entered university, the navigation system on his phone started to have the function to automatically search for treasures.

Every time he found a treasure, he would be able to receive a lot of rewards.

“92kg of embezzled products detected. The reward for completing the treasure hunt: 100 million mansions by the Sky Lake.”

“The top celebrity, Xia Qiu, will run into danger soon. The reward for completing fate hunt: 100 million cash.”

“5kg gold detected. The reward for completing treasure hunt: 60% stock of Distant Publishing that’s worth 600 million.”

With the continuous treasure hunts automatically detected on his phone and obtaining the rewards from the hunts, Ye Feng said, “From today onwards, I’ll be the most pretentious bastard.”

Bought it right away.

After Song Juyao died and emerged from the virtual world, she learned that her entire life had just been a reality show which was led and controlled by others.

One billion viewers watched this live broadcast, all of them pointing fingers at her and ridiculing her life whilst the director team thought up every possible method to design setbacks for her, pulling her into the mud over and over again.

Then, Song Juyao was reborn. This time, her memory was not suppressed.

This was a crazy world. People were discontent and bored of their lives. They had also lost their enthusiasm for various kinds of entertainment, falling to the point of seeking all sorts of thrills in order to arouse their emotions.

Later, they found a precious treasure. She was perfect. They held her in the palm of their hands and went wild for her. They even regarded her as a God and worshipped her fanatically.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”