MTL - It’s a Stepmother, Not a Sister [70s] - Chapter 127 small padded jacket

[You have become the first ever Player of Life in human history.]

-What did I just see? He can see the flu virus?

-The cell he made grew in the culture medium. This really looks like an embryonic stem cell… Is this true?

Leukemia, dementia, schizophrenia, lung cancer, and pancreatic cancer…

‘Can I overcome it all?’

[Of course.]

A confident message popped up.

Rosaline, the living cell that had become a part of his body.

With this cell, any research he did was nothing but successful!

His story of overcoming all diseases and illnesses begins here.

Disclaimer: Please do not take any medical advice from this novel or any other web novels.

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For others it takes dying and reincarnating for them to get a system but what happens when you get one without dying?

Aron Michael is an average student set to graduate within a week, but he was expelled for a random reason. Due to that, he had heavy student debt and no diploma to help him earn the money to pay it back. But one day he got a system that called itself the [Advanced Tech System].

Follow the story to watch him develop from your average Joe to him being the owner of the largest company in the world.

Li Xiao Yao left S.W.A.T to become an ordinary security guard. While working, he happened to enter the VIP room and found Lin Wang Er still in the middle of changing. As revenge, she took him on a ride and kicked him out of the car.

After hours of walking, Li Xiao Yao finally managed to get back home just to be kicked out of the house. He then got an offer from his previous supervisor to become the bodyguard of the Tian Xi group CEO’s daughter both in game and in reality. But unknown to Li Xiao Yao the girl was actually…

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.”