MTL - Beasttaming: Fallen Angel As The First Contract In Game - Chapter 4 Let me drive 55 with him

Emperor Zi Yu used 5 strikes of his axe to split mountains and unify everyone underneath the heavens. He partitioned the land into 9 areas, thus establishing the Nine Cauldrons which eventually became known as the 9 prefectures.

Born of a great family, world shaking genius.

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?

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.”