MTL - Genius Doctor: Black Belly Miss - Chapter 95 Face second style 3

One morning, Gu Tiantian wakes up to find her innocence gone—and her temper flaring.Every time she glares at him, cheeks flushed with outrage, Bai Chenyao cocks an eyebrow.“You don’t want this?” he asks, voice cool.“I never did!” she snaps.His only rule: her consent is optional; his desire is not.Cue Gu Tiantian’s inner scream: Then why even ask, you iceberg?!PS:A genius CEO with zero EQ VS. a lovable, scatter-brained clerk.He thinks courtship is a hostile takeover; she thinks love shouldn’t come with fine print.Sparks fly, clothes vanish, and the “free pie” she never ordered keeps biting back—hilariously, endlessly, deliciously.

Dilan, 21-years-old, was anything but ordinary. He sought adrenaline wherever he could.

Life didn’t feel worth living on the small blue planet he was born on.

However, it was a seemingly ordinary night on new year’s eve that everything changed!

A raging storm manifested on the mountainside he had climbed on to feel free, to escape the ordinary world that bored him to death.

And death was what awaited him eagerly as he was flung through the air, just to be pricked by an old, seemingly ancient tree trunk.

Not even a miracle would be enough to save him anymore.

But it was just at this moment that something much bigger than a miracle happened.

Every single existence on the blue planet got connected to the Log of the Ancient, something most would label as “Status”.

The ordinary and mundane world changed forever, turning into a bloody and merciless battlefield as the Primordial Ascension unsealed the shackles that weighed on the planet for millions of years.

Mythical mana was unleashed, animals began to mutate, zombies emerged, and monsters known from fairy tales appeared out of Gates.

Follow the journey of a man, who seeks adrenaline, who embraces pain, who overcomes death itself …a man, who will become an Undying existence!

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.”

When a person dies, they either die light as a feather (aka unimportant) or heavy as Mt. Tai (aka very important).