The Stepmother's Counterattack: Raising a Child in a Bygone Era - Chapter 751 - 750 Plane Crash

After being transported to another world, Lei XinFeng must struggle to survive. His village is settled in a forest, far away from any major cities.

This novel is about low ranking staff Shan Shan being oppressed by the Big Boss. She keeps fighting but keeps losing. So she finally stopped struggling and obediently surrendered…

Shan Shan, extremely docile, waited outside the delivery room at the temporary blood bank. At the same time, the big boss sent her away to do a blood test to ensure she was of good health and suitable blood type.

Sure enough, the pregnant woman was in a critical condition. Thus, Shan Shan obediently let 300 cc of her blood being pumped. The condition of the pregnant woman improved. Shan Shan received many thanks, left the hospital and lamented this while looking at the moon:

“Capitalists really are blood-suckers, heartless, heartless.”

Shan Shan, who is deep in thought, did not notice a black limousine has stopped behind her. The man at the back seat heard her sigh, moved his mouth and then closed the recently opened window.

“Drive home.”

“Boss, didn’t you just say you want to send Miss Xue back?”

“No need,” the man said without expression, “capitalists are heartless.”

Suddenly being able to travel to various familiar worlds, to grow and develop in these various high-risk worlds, you need to follow the following guidelines:

1: If you want to get rich, don’t be afraid of death. If you are afraid of death, you can only eat other people’s leftovers.

2: Don’t always try to save the world, it will be bad luck to be a Virgin in other planes.

3: Don’t let go of good things, maybe you will lose a great opportunity because of this.

4: Don’t wantonly flood your feelings, you can only bring back sadness if you can’t take away the girl.

……

- 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.”