MTL - The General’s Cat Always Wants To Climb Into My Bed - Chapter 43 Yi Jia's Secret (2)

Pendulum clocks replaced sand glasses; the world’s first pocket watch ticked through its 100th year. Steam power welcomed the advent of machinery; industries took over farmlands. The study of Science brought humankind out of the clutches of superstitions and pushed them to a path of endless possibilities. And one man witnessed it all.

He was a moth among mayflies, fluttering through as generations replaced generations- fuelled by an endless thirst for knowledge. But fate decided to introduce him to a butterfly- someone alike, yet so different.

Follow ‘The Actor’ Xavier Godwin and ‘The Seeress’ Yue Lin as they delve into the world hidden from the common eyes- a world of magic and mysticism- as they evade the sights of countless hidden organisations, and create a secret society of their own.

Kujo Yuuri, who had been playing Elysia Online, finally changed her occupation to the sage of her desire. Then, she was asked whether to go to the true Elyasia or not and selected [Yes], and somehow went to another world. Furthermore, she became a small child.

The small sage Yuuri and her companions’ love and adventure fantasy.

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.”

Back to the end of Ming Dynasty, he was reduced to a slave.

This emperor, a beggar can do it, a slave can do it, a bandit can do it, but a house slave can’t do it?

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