Nine Realms Sword Emperor - Chapter 769 - 770: 81 Supreme Sword Energies

“Abused and disowned by her family after she was found heavily pregnant, Ji Weixi was forced to leave her hometown with nothing to her name. She returns four years later, only to be caught in a job with Li Shaoling, her stepsister’s fiancé-to-be as her boss.

***

Ji Weixi was holding up a certain body part of the child and aiming it at the toilet.

The tot’s brow eased amidst the gushing. “”Comfy…””

Li Shaoling’s gaze was overwhelmingly icy. “”You are not allowed to touch him there!””

Ji Weixi stared at him as if she was staring at an idiot. “”By what right?””

Li Shaoling glared at her. “”You are only allowed to look at mine.””

Never!!!”

- Description from Novelupdates

After all the things that he had done in his life, Alex realized that it was already his time to die.

Everyone in the City of Jing thinks that bestowment of marriage between Xian Junwang and the daughter of the Yi’an Marquis House is to insert a fresh flower into manure.

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.”