Mad God Evolution - Chapter 1642 - 1532

Yu Mian has been an orphan since she was a child. Fortunately, she has a kind person to support her, and the kind person is a starlet.
With gratitude, she became the little star’s first fan, sent him messages of encouragement, helped him make the rankings, and helped him tear up the sunspots for him, and accompanied him from obscurity to the top of the entertainment circle, and won the actor trophy.
Yu Mian thought that she would silently protect him for the rest of her life, but in a car accident, she transmigrated into Yu Mianmian, the fiancée of the movie emperor’s family.
On the first day of transmigrating, the film king appeared in front of her. Before Yu Mian could recover from the joy of seeing the idol, she saw a man with a cold face handing over a piece of paper.
The voice was low and indifferent: “We are just a family marriage, we just need to play around.”
Yu Mian Xingxingyan nodded, took the contract and smiled so much that she couldn’t see her teeth. Idols are for looking up to. As a qualified fan, being able to get close to her is enough to satisfy her.
Once dressed as a wealthy lady, Yu Mian, a commoner, just wants to eat and wait to die, and spend money and money on idols!
But why did the idol, who said he was good at acting on the occasion, look more and more wrong in her eyes?
One day, the film king blocked her in a corner: “When will our marriage be held?”
Yu Mian blinked suspiciously: “Didn’t you say you don’t want to get married too early?”
The film emperor gritted his teeth secretly: “I changed my mind, and suddenly wanted to try what it would be like to be called my husband.”
Lin Jianshen: I call my husband every day on the Internet, when will I actually call him once?
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【Daily Stream/Sweet Cookies/No Cruelty No Scum】
The author is not in the circle, please forgive me if there is any inaccuracy.

- Description from novelbuddy

Song Haotian, an old man with dementia, was deserted by his children. This kind of news was common on the Internet. However, such an insignificant event actually led to a series of events.

Song Haotian’s adopted daughter made false claims about him in order to be selected for a talent show. The netizens cyberbullied the old man in order to protect their idol. Just when the netizens thought this case would end satisfactorily with the adopted daughter winning, an unexpected scene played out.

The head of East Asian Chamber of Commerce, the elder of an ancient martial arts clan, the beautiful CEO of the world’s most powerful security company, the head of the nation-renowned Chinese Medicine Association, and many other families and factions were involved in the case due to the false claim.

Later, the netizens finally found out the true identity of Song Haotian and how powerful he was. However, it was too late now.

Wen Xuxu is a tenacious, talented, smart and brave woman who was fostered by the Yan family at the age of four when she lost both her parents.

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.”