Fierce Love: Bringing Wife Home - Chapter 968 - 112: Clever Dabao

I lived for you in the last lifetime, everything I did was for you, yet you wanted me to die; so, this time, life is mine to live! This world lied to me, betrayed me, and humiliated me, and I am back to change everything!

- Description from Novelupdates

Everyone had the right to choose his or her life. Maybe many people wanted to live an ordinary life, but Qin Sheng didn’t want to be a mediocre man. He had practiced martial arts under the guidance of his grandfather in the Zhongnan Mountains since he was a child. After two years’ wandering life, he decided to settle in Shanghai, so he contacted Han Guoping, a rich businessman, and took the job as his daughter’s safeguard. He thought that he only needed to protect Han Bing. However, things seemed more complicated. He got to know that Han Guoping offended a powerful figure and his life might be in danger. What would Qin Sheng do to help the Han family? Would he turn the tables?

Reincarnated with major advantages selected in haste. The new world is vast and hostile...a world almost infinite in scope. Essentially a Dyson Sphere created by magic and sustained by magic. A World Sphere. Can the MC delve into the mysteries of the sphere?

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.”