Monster Factory - Chapter 15: Worth it?

Bai Pingting has always been contrary the saying, “A woman’s virtue is ignorance.”

Although she serves the Marquess of Jing-An as a maid, she leads a life far richer than most women. Her plain appearance is not what defines her — but her intelligence, far beyond many wise men.

Although Chu Beijie was an enemy general, she still cannot help being attracted to this man, despite the many lies and conspiracies…but between love and loyalty, she must make a choice. She can only hope that man’s love for her isn’t as deep as she thought.

One is a soul who seemingly destroys peace while the other aspires to be the sword that saves. Between them, lies a mountain of hate…

Who of the two most cunning people on earth cast the trap and just who captured the other?

One day I was suddenly thrown into a fantasy world with my sister,bff,fav. actress,milf next door, fav. pornstar,etc...There I also met several mystical women from different species like mermaid,elf, Demonic, warrior, village girl,etc...But who was the mysterious motherly woman who brought me here?What was her motives?All I remember is that few days ago I....

For those who fought in war, war never ends.

But Xiao Yuan’s war has just begun…a war that has ended.

Guderian?

Rommel?

Manstein?

The USSR needs only one soldier… Shulka

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”