MTL - After Fishing For 10 Years, I Became A Saint Without Knowing How To Raise Beasts - Chapter 504 Govlan Freya and Govlan?

Li Ke Lin (also Li Colin), a Chinese office worker, woke up to find himself suddenly no longer Li Ke Lin but instead Colin Lee, son of multi-billionaire in America. Having taken over the body of Colin Lee and carefully imitated his manners and bearings, his next goal is to inherit his father’s wealth. However, when his father lists the condition of marrying a woman who feels repulsed by Colin Lee’s (not Li Colin’s) dalliances, and whose very nature is the complete opposite of Colin Lee (not Li Colin), what must he do to gain her affection?!

Yao Mo Xin, the empress of Da Chu died in a cruel way a day after she gave birth at the hands of her husband the emperor, Ye Hong Yi, and her legitimate second sister, Yao Shu Ran. Ye Hong Yi got the throne because of the smartness of Yao Mo Xin, but he hated her because she made him feel like a useless person who needed a woman to become the emperor.

In Zhenhai City, the Chu Family receives an imperial decree that revives the hope of reclaiming their ancestral title, but only if a descendant places in the top three of the Martial Examination. For young Chu Yangxiang, who unexpectedly discovers he has Grade 1 Martial Dao Talent, this honor seems within reach. Yet, as he rises, envy and family rivalries emerge, with the privileged Chu Xiaoxiang demanding loyalty—or threatening to ruin him.Determined and battered, Chu Yangxiang faces a brutal choice: submit or fight for his family’s legacy. Will he overcome these powerful?

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.”