Bedding My Vampire Mate - Chapter 523 Anthony Got Slapped

When I woke up, my father was a nouveau riche whom everyone despised, and I had five great brothers: a black actor in the entertainment industry, a useless lawyer in the field of law, a sickly quack in the medical field, a plagiarizing dog in the design industry, and a school bully.

Bai Pingting has always been contrary the saying, “A woman’s virtue is ignorance.”

Although she serves the Marquess of Jing-An as a maid, she leads a life far richer than most women. Her plain appearance is not what defines her — but her intelligence, far beyond many wise men.

Although Chu Beijie was an enemy general, she still cannot help being attracted to this man, despite the many lies and conspiracies…but between love and loyalty, she must make a choice. She can only hope that man’s love for her isn’t as deep as she thought.

One is a soul who seemingly destroys peace while the other aspires to be the sword that saves. Between them, lies a mountain of hate…

Who of the two most cunning people on earth cast the trap and just who captured the other?

Crossing over to an independent urban world where martial arts and immortal law coexisted, the only thing Lin Shen could rely on was his clone’s golden finger.

“Clone cultivation, the host becomes stronger.”

“Clone [Pure Flame Body]: Flame attribute techniques cultivation speed +300%, Blazing Flame Palm, Melting Hand, Pure Flame Sword Skill… Any flame attribute techniques at your service. You can become a master in a day!”

“Clone [Natural Daoist Body]: cultivation speed +500%. All martial arts techniques can be understood at first glance, and will be integrated, crushing all geniuses!”

“Clone [Non-self Sword God]: Sword art technique power +200%, sword art technique cultivation speed +200%. No matter how strong you are, I will cut you down with one strike!”

…

“You never know how many clones are trying to cultivate behind the person you are talking to in front of you!”

“What does it have to do with me if my clone did it?”

“Don’t try to outnumber me cuz you can’t!”

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.”