One Birth Two Treasures: The Billionaire's Sweet Love - Chapter 4693 - Never Too Late to Love (100)

Hiding in the Cold Palace and eventually becoming a Boss of Sorts. Li Mu was transported to a fantastical world and became a measly eunuch of the State of Xia. Despite having initially thought that his life would be a miserable one, he had unexpectedly acquired a check-in system.

The richest man, the Su family, suddenly has a three-year-old baby! Everyone thought that this little baby girl was the illegitimate daughter of Su Laoqi, a playboy in the entertainment industry. Who knew that the seven brothers of the Su family knelt down in a row and called her aunt!

All the people in Beicheng laughed to death: What does your aunt do except drink milk? It’s better that my aunt would embroider for me.

Su Laoqi: What is embroidery? My aunt can catch ghosts, monsters and zombies. She is top-notch in the world. Can your aunt do it?

Su Laoliu: My aunt can fly a sword and chase a plane. Can your aunt do it?

Su Laowu: My aunt knows how to use Guimen Thirteen Needles to treat diseases. Can your aunt do it?

Su Laosi: My aunt can figure skate five times. Can your aunt do it?

Su Laosan: My aunt can kill five at will in the game, can your aunt do it?

Su Laoer: My aunt has won awards for Chinese painting, oil painting and ink painting. Can your aunt do it?

Boss Su: My aunt can help my company make one billion a day, can your aunt do the same?

Later, when the Su family’s sister-in-law grew up, she quietly fell in love with her childhood sweetheart. The seven sons of the Su family roared in unison: Stay away from my aunt!

- Description from novelbuddy

Xander Nyxon was born with a gift: the ability to lift the veil of sleep and travel to the world beyond. He is one of the few rare individuals who can enter dreams and nightmares at will.

While most Dreamwalkers ply their trade on the Dreamscape, Xander Nyxon is one of the reckless few who travels to the Nightscape seeking answers from the deceased. However, walking through nightmares is a perilous task even for the most experienced Dreamwalker.

A thin veil separates the real world from the realm beyond, holding the terrors of the Nightscape at bay. But things quickly go wrong when a group of cultists cause the wall between the worlds to crumble. What happens when dreams and nightmares merge with the real world and twisted Ethereals start clawing their way out of the Nightscape?

***

Xander was lifted off his feet and pushed back several paces. He desperately tried to get back on the ground, but his legs kept dangling mid-air.

“I knew you’d be coming,” the mysterious figure whispered, pulling his hood back to reveal a hideous face riddled with scars. He was blind in the left eye and all his teeth were grimy black.

“What the hell are you freaks up to?” Xander growled, desperately trying to break free from the cultist’s grasp. “Who are you guys?”

The cultist smiled at this and replied, “Our names are inconsequential, Dreamwalker. But I think you already know what we are up to. Our world is plagued by sin. It is time for it to be cleansed by the Dark Deity’s blessing!”

What to expect?

1. Dungeons.

2. Magic.

3. Creatures from folklore, myth and fantasy.

4. A level-up system with skill upgrades.

5. Mystery and adventure.

……………………………………………………………

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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.”