MTL - Becoming the Empress: Golden Finger Set Under My Bed - Chapter 495 This is the only person in this life

A huge scandal rocked the Qi family. Young Miss Qi gave birth to triplets before she was married!

The journey to the martial peak is a lonely, solitary and long one. In the face of adversity, you must survive and remain unyielding. Only then can you break through and continue on your journey to become the strongest. Sky Tower tests its disciples in the harshest ways to prepare them for this journey. One day the lowly sweeper Kai Yang managed to obtain a black book, setting him on the road to the peak of the martials world.

“Can’t I properly read stallion novels anymore!”

Shen Yuan transmigrated into someone who’d tormented the young male lead almost to death, the scum villain Shen Qingqiu.

It must be known, the original Shen Qingqiu ended up being carved alive by his disciple, Luo Binghe, into a human stick, a human stick!

Ten thousand “fuck your moms” rampaged through Shen Qingqiu’s heart:

“It’s not that I don’t want to cling to the male lead’s thighs, but who made him so fucking black. The type who seeks thousand-fold retribution!”

Why have all the female lead’s scenes been forcibly given to him.

Why, as a scum villain, does he need to constantly sacrifice himself, blocking knife and gun for the protagonist!

Shen Qingqiu: “…I think I can still save him, one more time.”

A gong who starts as a loyal dog of a small white flower, and ends up as a blackened, mental case of a maiden X a refined scum villain of a tsukkomi-holic shou

This is actually a dogblood story about a master-disciple pair never doing honest work, fighting monsters, and engaging in romance.

It’s also a story where the villain personally witnesses how the male lead transforms from a little sheep of a white lotus into a dark tyrant O(∩_∩)O~

- Description from novelupdates

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.”