PREVIEW

... Earth and people were still standing with ease at Draco's side while cries of anguish could be sensed from the very back as many collapsed to the ground.

Of course, the moment they gave up, the pressure around them disappeared and they were allowed to recuperate. Rather than sending them back outright, they were allowed to stay and envy those front of them who preserved longer.

20x, 25x, 30x, 35x, 40x…

The gravity spiked quickly and the number of those who could withstan ...

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Important notice, The Prodigal Son of the Ming Dynasty, also known as “Ming Song”.

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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.”