MTL - Cub Keeper - Chapter 427 Cubs Competition (6)

Yan Heng never thought that he would become a stray dog ​​with disabled legs. No one wanted to look at him, even the woman he loved avoided him. Jiang Wanying, who he used as a stand-in, appeared in front of him in a wheelchair.

She took him to see a doctor and brought him home. She was his salvation and the only warmth in his dark memory.

But her disability and face injury were all because of him.

——When she was pushed to the cliff, he chose another woman without hesitation.
Fortunately, she lost her memory at this moment, and everything can be salvaged.
Note: Yan Heng is not a male protagonist.

Content Labels: Rebirth Face Slap System Modern Overhead
Search keywords: Protagonist: Jiang Wanying ┃ Supporting role: “I am a salted fish after dressing as a wise woman [Quick Cross]” ┃ Others: Finish the text search column~
One-sentence introduction: a surrogate female supporting role, raising a dog to debut
Intention: self-improvement, great virtue

- Description from novelbuddy

The father is kind, the son is filial, the two fools;

Ten thousand years green hat is an egg.

Two-knife flow dragon Varian;

The Endless Ship King Jaina.

Maybe you don’t believe it, in fact, the above black mold turtles are all McDonald’s prodigals.

The days of a prodigal family are so boring and boring, life is always something to pursue, when the road to the god of law opens up in front…

and many more! Who told me that the talent is 1 point of [Brightness], and then all points of [Charge], [Rage], and [Titan’s Grip]?

And… who put the sand sculpture player in! ?

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Veteran author, author of several sets of fine novels such as “Storm of the God of the Storm”, the completion of the book is guaranteed. In addition, the readership group: 551430919, welcome to irrigate

- Description from novelbuddy

Kang Min-hyuk, the loser of the checkpoint, gained a high-level magical civilization and everything changed.

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.”