Return of the Legendary Runesmith - Chapter 225 - 224- Lost

Ou Renjin likes keeping beautiful young men because he likes watching the drama.

Watching them be arrogant and conceited; watching them be obsequious and sycophantic; watching them have ulterior motives and fight with each other, seeing all the evil side of human nature.

Until, he picks up a poor little guy.

The poor little guy is ignorant and helpless, treating Ou Renjin as his whole world, spending all his salary to buy him gifts, standing in front of him in times of danger without hesitation, even…

…saying to him in the calmest and lightest of tones after knowing that their heart matching is successful, “I am very grateful that you have been hiding it from me, but I have long been ready to give my heart to you.”

* * *

036 was born as a test subject, without parents or friends.

As the only successful “petri dish of renewable organs”, he had every organ in his body cut out and transplanted to the rich and powerful countless times.

After getting used to the pain, he met the most special person in the world.

This person was so good that he wanted to cut out his own heart immediately.

- Description from Novelupdates

After a long time in the darkness, a lost soul is transported to another world, and there the soul is given another chance and is reborn as a boy...In a world of swords and magic, Zaos is given another chance after hearing an unknown voice asking him to protect someone. While he couldn't remember many things about his old life, he still decided to live his new as much as possible. Even though it looked like he was destined to do something, Zaos chose to follow his own path as much as possible.He tried that... but it looked like the machinations of destiny won't give him much option. Weird things were happening in the kingdom he was born, and before he could imagine... Zaos was throw in the middle of a war in which some were trying to revive the god of the world, and others were trying to prevent it. Zaos will fight in this war while he also looks for the person he is supposed to protect.The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

“He” was originally a weak and pitiful “sissy”. Once reborn, he became an ancient martial arts genius with both medicine and poison. The national male god.

Don’t touch anyone who belongs to her, and she will hold what is not her, and she will never be merciless when she abuses scum and face.

He is a business genius who covers the sky with one hand in Huaguo. He has a dark belly and is decisive in killing. He is the only one who turns into a loyal dog in front of her.

She kills, he sets fire. She poisoned, he silenced.

One day, the pampered and lawless Lu Xingchen said in disgust, “Brother, they all say you are my dog.”

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”