Take My Breath Away - Chapter 1412 Colmans Wife

Here martial arts are no longer intangible legends. They have been passed on from generation to generation and from century to century. After the confrontation with science and technology, they have completely integrated into modern society and all kinds of martial arts competitions are taking place across the country as superiority among scholars are hard to reach a consensus but not as difficult among martial artists!

Markus spent his life piecing together fragments of his past life on Earth, flickers of faces, half-remembered streets, the ghost of a world that no longer existed.Slowly, gradually, he’d finally found his footing in this new world of monstrous beings. He felt grounded, as if his fractured memories could finally settle into something resembling a family.But it all went downhill from there.A lingering touch, a promise, an obsession. As if fate itself was playing a cruel joke, his life begins to spiral down. Gradually tumbling down like a crescendo of madness, dragging him deeper into something inescapable.Every attempt to claw his way back only pulls him further down, like a bottomless pit with no end in sight.How much can a person endure before they break? And when they do, can they ever truly piece themselves back together?

Ham Dani, a normal student whose hobbies were to read novels.

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.”