A Wall Street Genius's Final Investment Playbook - Chapter 153

I watch him, his green eyes brimming with concern as he gently massages my scarred leg. The sensation is both soothing and a stark reminder of my own inadequacy. The once-feared Crimson General, a symbol of power and invincibility, is now nothing but a frail shadow of his former self. I’ve been abandoned, left to decay in this forsaken place, my family and comrades long forgotten. Darkness had become my only solace, and I had resigned myself to it.Then he arrived, a beacon of light in my endless night. His presence, his care—it’s more than I ever deserved. Yet, I find myself clinging to him with an intensity that borders on madness. I hate that I need him so desperately, that his every action and word have become my lifeline. It consumes me, a torment I can't escape.“You don't have to do this. Please, don’t do this. I’m nothing. You deserve better. Leave. Please,” I beg, my voice trembling with raw anguish, the very words tearing me apart.He continues his work, seemingly unaffected by my pleas.“Why are you here? Look at me! I’m nothing.”Desperation and anger swell within me, mixing into a maelstrom of anxiety. I can’t comprehend the emotions coursing through me.“You're my alpha, where else would I be?” he responds softly, his gaze unwavering, as if my pleas were mere background noise.My heart races, torn between overwhelming relief and paralyzing dread. In that moment, I realize the truth: you would have to tear him from my cold, lifeless arms. I’m never letting go.General Thorne, betrayed and broken, finds new life and love with Omega Noelle, who nurses him back to health. Their deepening bond reveals Thorne’s softer side, offering a chance at happiness. Unfortunately, Thorne’s past soon catches up with them, threatening their newfound peace.

I made a deal with the Devil.Free of Charge.

Varian only wanted to end the war with the Abyssals and bring peace so that no one would lose their dad like he did.

Hello, everyone. My name is Shen JianGuo. I’m a night school teacher. I mainly teach the subjects of (Marxist) philosophy and ethics. I occasionally review new policies and measures for the students. I never see my colleagues and students during the day. The training institute classrooms are all abandoned schools, hospitals, or houses. The bus number is 444 and it always appears in front of my door at 12 midnight and disappears before 5am.

What? You say I met a ghost? Impossible. As a staunch scientific materialist, I don’t believe ghosts exist in this world.

But recently I’ve had an issue to raise. Can the training institute bring the class time up a little bit? Wouldn’t it be good to start around 8pm? Though I fear nothing on earth or in the heavens, I’m afraid of going bald.

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