MTL - Investing for All: I Can See a Return on Investment - Chapter 246 Ancient spirit world

“I'll take this child.” Sold to the Wudang Sect's outer martial arts training hall for three silver coins at a young age, Kwak Yeon dreams of mastering supreme martial arts. But can he overcome the needle-sized gateway barely permitted to trainee instructors and rise to become a disciple of the main sect? “A true gentleman cannot stand idle in the face of injustice!” Thus begins Kwak Yeon's unyielding journey through the martial world, following the ruthless principle of “Kill Buddha, Kill Ancestors”—destroying all obstacles in his path!

In the 312th year of the Great Yu Kingdom, the Demon Sect suddenly rose, the Eastern Bureau was annihilated, and the Lin faction collapsed. This year, the situation changed dramatically, the martial arts world was filled with intrigue, and the dynasty was on the brink of danger.The starting point of everything was due to the Demon Sect Saintess dying an untimely death.“This case is now closed, and you are no longer a suspect.”After another round of investigation, Chen Yi returned home and pushed open the door.The Demon Sect Saintess, who should have been dead, was curled up trembling on his bed...“Master...”She called out to Chen Yi.The enemy of the previous life, now a concubine in this life.…………………The Empress Dowager who controls the court, the pure and flawless Demon Sect Saintess, the ninth-ranking one-armed sword master of the world, the emotionless Taichua Goddess, the chivalrous and tender-hearted Spring and Autumn Sword Master...They are all my enemies, all once wished me dead.In the end, they all resigned themselves to subordination, swallowing their shame.

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.”

She died with her eyes wide open, waiting by the river for three days and three nights, only to be greeted not by her husband, but by her benefactor. As she looked at the blurred figure, her heart was deeply moved, and she silently made a vow: if she could be reborn, she would definitely marry him!… Later, she really was reborn.

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