Soul Land: Bibi Dong Is My Martial Soul - Chapter 106: Bibi Dong’s Bold Maneuver

An accident happened on the eve of the prize redemption day, and when Su Li opened her eyes again, she realized she’d become a hunter’s wife.

Not only was everyone in the family lazy, but they also caused much trouble.

To live a better life by being away from the family, she agreed to many of her mother-in-law’s unreasonable demands.

Due to such unreasonable demands, her life wasn’t easy after the separation. They were nearly running out of rice!

Her husband even spent most of the month on the mountain.

The only thing Su Li was thankful for was that she had a pair of adorable twins.

To raise them well and give them a fair chance at life, Su Li decided to change their living environment. She strived to make a fortune.

In order to keep their mother around, the two children worked very hard. At some point in the future, one of them became a top scholar, while the other became a mighty general.

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“You will be my wife one day.” Declared Liu Jun - the handsome and wealthy young master to his beloved childhood friend. He vowed to marry her at all costs. But that vow made him a villain. The woman he desired didn't return his love. Crazy and heartbroken, he crashed into her wedding, who was going to marry the love of her life, Liu Jin, unfortunately his own younger brother. Circumstances took a drastic turn, leaving him with only one choice to pay for his sins - His death. But fate gave him another chance. Liu Jun was reborn. In this new life, he chose to let go of his love and start anew. He discarded his villain's identity and closed his heart forever. But a new encounter and new troubles come knocking on his door with the secrets of his past life that even he doesn't know. Will the villainous Mr. Liu find his happy ending this time? *Excerpt* Ai said, “I forgot to clarify something. It seems you have a misunderstanding that I am interested in you because I stared at you.” Jun blinked once. “Rest assured that's not the case. I won't look at you that way. You are not my type.”

Hunter Cha Eui-jae, who was dispatched to seal a rift that appeared over the West Sea, was flung out as soon as he closed the rift. When he came to his senses, he was lying in a garbage dump.Starving, he was drawn like a zombie is to blood to a hangover soup restaurant, where he realized that he had fallen into South Korea, eight years in the future.In this era, disaster alerts notify people of rift openings in advance, ASMR videos of slimes gathered from dungeons were trending, and idle hunters livestream unboxings of A-rank longswords.Unlike the past, where people trembled in fear of an impending apocalypse, the future was surprisingly peaceful, leaving Cha Eui-jae feeling empty. Since things had turned out this way, why not start a second chapter of life as a part-timer at the hangover soup restaurant, rather than being a hunter?“That’s strange.”“…”“Have we met somewhere before?”Cha Eui-jae’s plan to quietly spend his remaining days as the only part-time worker at the decades-old hangover soup restaurant goes awry when he encounters a mysterious, gas-masked individual…DISCLAIMER: The story isn't mine

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.”