Married To The Last Ice Dragon - Chapter 3: Who are you?

[You can now choose three of the following seven options
1. Go back to five years ago with the present memory
2. Five centimeters taller
3. Seven million deposits
4. Appearance +50 points
5. A company with a market capitalization of 500 million
6. Proficient in a foreign language
7. Teaser live broadcast 10 million virtual coins]

Li Ang became angry after finishing the selection: choose every day, choose, choose, you will give it after the selection!
…
Fuck, it’s really shipped!

- Description from novelbuddy

Light and color, sound and smell;

Food, clothing, housing, mobile phones and computers;

Burn, freeze, rub, explode, thunder, rain, grow, decay;

All material changes and chemical phenomena;

Our bodies, our minds, our world—

All based on electromagnetic interaction!

Whoever can control the electromagnetic force will be the tyrant who dominates the world!

However, electromagnetic force is too profound, so let’s learn how to discharge electricity first…

- Description from novelbuddy

When Yao Ling saved a handsome man, she never thought that there would be a day she would propose a marriage to him.

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.”