The Unveiling of Secret Queen - Chapter 1352: Jade Chooses Its Wearer, Perfect for Elders

Before the rebirth, Gu Qingyao wanted to marry him but did not dare to marry. After the rebirth, Gu Qingyao, with the space materials in hand, all day planning to marry him with a huge dowry.

After spending half a year in the province, Cheng Yang took a luxurious cruise for seven days.
Accidentally hooked up with a CEO on the way.

Later, Cheng Yang found out that he was pregnant.
Just as Cheng Yang was preparing to secretly give birth to the baby, it was a coincidence that he fell asleep in the big president’s bed.

It’s impossible to run with the ball, his man is handsome and rich.
Must cling tightly and can’t be torn down.

- Description from Novelupdates

With the descent of the first blood rain, the world underwent a dramatic transformation.Once bustling cities became playgrounds for zombies.Some people merely survive in this post-apocalyptic world, while others thrive using their strength in this new world.Opportunists are on the move, and lone wanderers roam the land.Firearms, artillery, superhumans, and mutated creatures drive the world in a new direction.Clove Russell is reborn at the dawn of the apocalypse, leveraging his Space Element superpower to unlock the genetic limits of the human body, dominating the post-apocalyptic world without rival.Linda: “This bastard has no feelings whatsoever, only using me to vent his desires!”Kelly: “He's so strong, so formidable!”Wendy: “I will conquer him! Clove conquers the world, and I will conquer Clove!”

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.”