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... een able to endure it. The reason why she did nothing about her face for the past two days was to let the teacher see it clearly.

Inside the space, the pain would fade away, but her injury would remain in the same state. Thus, it remained clearly visible.

“Teacher, I was stopped by a bunch of hooligans on Friday. They surrounded me and refused to let me go. They even pretended to act familiar with me on purpose. I was then dragged into an alleyway. If it weren’t for a passing pol ...

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Ren Ran’s life was smooth sailing for the first eighteen years, but plagued by misfortune for the next eight. Her grandparents, mother, and younger brother passed away one after another. Her company was seized by her scumbag father, and she was kicked out of her home, forced to wander the streets. She would get robbed walking down the road, or have flower pots dropped on her head when she reached a building entrance. If she went to work, the company she worked for would go bankrupt.

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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.”