MTL - Rebirth in a Perfect Era - Chapter 58 Recruitment

Li Xingwan had transmigrated into a book, becoming a D-list celebrity scandal-ridden and already married.Her husband was a bad omen. Rumor had it, he was a poor and elderly man with hemiplegia. Not only that, she also had to play stepmother.In effect, Li Xingwan was just like a widow.Regarding these rumors, Li Xingwan herself remained silent.The clamoring on the internet grew more intense.“That person who appeared on screen just now, couldn't have been a woman taking care of her hemiplegic husband, could she?”“And what about that ugly freak of a stepson?”“Won't this family put on some sort of tragic drama in front of the camera?”“Li Xingwan, she's just shameless. For money, she'd even marry a hemiplegic.”But...As the camera panned,who was that cold and abstinent Buddha's Disciple? And who was that soft, adorable little bun?!Ahhh! I'm going crazy!!

Cheated on by her fiancé weeks before their wedding, Sara, vowed to never love again. Men could not be trusted, especially with a woman's heart. She had made the mistake once, and that was more than enough for her. Never again would she make the same mistake to give her heart to another.But her resolve began to waver when she came across her new boss, Alexander Legend, a man whose reputation in his expertise and ruthlessness in business preceded him. Respected and feared by many, but to Sara, he was an annoying pest she wished she never met. Too persisted for her liking yet, she finds herself falling, slowly melting in his presence. Getting used to his stolen kisses and hugs and sometimes anticipating them.°°°°°Excerpts“You will fall for me, Sara. One day, I'll have your heart too,” Alex drawled. His voice had a seductive allure that had her heart racing. The fact that his hand was leisurely resting around her waist didn't help her either.“Try as much as you want to,” despite her body begging for his touch, Sara was determined to reject him today and any other day. She couldn't make the same mistake again. “You won't succeed in your seduction. NOT NOW. NOT EVER.”Alex smirked, kissed behind her ear and her body trembled, much to his satisfaction. That was all he needed to keep purising the stubborn woman in his arms right now. “We shall see, Miss Ambrose,” he cooed and then released her. He returned to his seat and asked in a professional tone. “What is my schedule for today?”

After his father was murdered and his peaceful village massacred, Sol woke up to find a mysterious old man standing over him claiming to be his new Master.

“You want revenge, don’t you? I’ll train you so you have the strength to take it, but you have to become my one and only disciple first!”

Sol’s peaceful village life training with his father ended for his journey of revenge and hatred to begin. However, on this journey, he would meet people who slowly changed him; who would go on to become his friends and loved ones.

Sol’s desire for revenge faded to be replaced by something else, a desire much stronger than before.

“I no longer seek revenge. What I now seek is to create a world where no one has to experience pain and suffering. And the only way to do that… is to rule!”

However, there was a catch. Would the powerful hegemonies who rule the world and cause chaos with their conflicts allow this boy to usurp their long reign?

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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any events, places, or names are all from the author's imagination and Google. If someone in any way assumes this book to be real or based on real events, I strongly suggest you send me Golden Tickets for doing such a good job.

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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.”