Boss Mo’s Predestined Love Brought by Surrogacy - Chapter 668 - Turmoil between adults

In the age of Mecha for everyone, people could travel to the Endless Abyss to gather materials, enhance and forge their own Mechas, and thus wield the power to destroy heavens and earth.Jiang Chen had transmigrated and awakened the talent [Undying Barehand]. Once his Mecha shattered, he could permanently absorb its power and attain a multiple enhancement.…At the bottom of the abyss, the ancient demon god exerted great effort and finally broke the titan Mecha, but from the shards extended a hand that held down its head.“Congratulations, you’ve unlocked my restraints.”

What will an ordinary man do if he finds out he is God in an Otome game? Of course, save the game’s Evil character, Morrigan! Unknowingly spread more chaos! Establish your own kingdom! Establish your own religion! Kill the Goddess of Light!

What is love?Love has a lot of meanings.To scientists, it is something that arises as a result of hormonal changes in the human body. To philosophers, it Is something that is triggered in human consciousness when two souls connect. it means a lot of different meanings to different people. Love is happiness to some, it is pain, sadness, ecstasy. It is an emotion that cannot really be explained. It is something that is meant to be felt.You also choose to be in love.But that didn’t happen to me. I didn’t get the opportunity to pick who I wanted to explore these crazy feelings with.It was chosen for me.I had no choice but to love him and he had no choice but to love me.Our love story is the strangest but also the most beautiful ever told.This is our chosen love.

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.”