Snowstorm: I'm Super Rich in the Apocalypse - Chapter 70 - The Big Rat

A Mysterious continent, with many powerful sect and countless strong one. Juvenile Zhou Heng with a mysterious black broken sword, from the original stone town out into this world of war. Ascended the throne of the world with only a sword in hand.

- Description from Novelupdates

Due to rejection of the heart donated by her ex-boyfriend, she married him and supported him with her own blood for two years. After the rejection disappeared, he unexpectedly filed for divorce. She readily agreed and left, revealing to him how he gotten the heart. When he learned the truth, he was furious and disgusted with her.Five years later, she pretended to be dead and returned with their child, disguised as an ugly nanny...

She was the world’s number one genius assassin who struck fear with just a mention of her name. Ruthless and merciless, she killed without leaving a trace. Yet she was deceived and used by the organization, and met a tragic end.

When she was reborn, she became a fat and s*upid female student.

Fat?

She stunned everyone after losing weight!

s*upid?

The president of Peking University personally came to recruit her!

Useless?

Hacker idols begged to call her goddess!

Medical giants knelt to become her minions!

Even mercenaries chased her shouting “Boss”! Math geniuses clung to her asking for solutions!

She just wanted an ordinary life, yet accidentally rose to be number one again, and gained a cunning big shot who protected and secretly pursued her.

The male and female leads fought like cats and dogs, both incredibly sly~

[Dual clean, sweet doting, face slapping, falling from grace, big shots…] [The female lead is calm, strong, a genius who acts before speaking.] [The male lead is cunning, careful, jealous, and dotes on his wife.]

No silly behavior, safe to indulge~

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.”