Mr. CEO, Please Stay - Chapter 792

He returned with a vigorous presence, equipped with a Heaven-reaching Innate Ability. He could heal, tell fortunes, refine medicines, set formations, and refine talismans… “There’s nothing in this world that I can’t do!” — Shen Feng.

Ye Han was reborn into a parallel world and participated in the challenge program [365 Days of Wilderness Survival] jointly organized by the world. At the beginning, he got a BUFF bonus with a lucky value of 9999. With his little cook, Ye Han started a shocking journey of survival in the wilderness.

When the other players were hungry, Ye Han had already eaten seafood. When the other players had no fixed place to live, Ye Han had already built a wooden house. When the other players were precarious, Ye Han was drinking tea in his manor. Ye Han: No way, my luck is 100 million points.

- Description from novelbuddy

[Urban Martial Arts, Passionate Martial World.] He was a super expert who, due to accepting an inheritance, underwent a physical transformation that put his life at risk. To extend his life, the king returned...

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.”