He's My Fiancée ! : I Went Back To The Past and You ! - Chapter 192 - 191: Sarcasm Game

For a certain LOL competition, a certain online streamer famous for pissing people off was currently explaining and broadcasting it at the same time.

Streamer: This support, so tr*sh.

Streamer: If that jungler was my teammate, I would already be idling at the fountain and playing piano for him by now.

Streamer: I recommend that this player go back and properly practice how to last hit.

Audience: What bullshit! If you’re any better, then you do it!

Streamer: Daddy I really can do it.

Audience: Okokok. If you can do it then I’ll chop off my head so you can kick it.

A few months later, LOL’s veteran pro team TTC announced a new mid laner, Soft. A boy with flashy blue hair appeared in front of the audience and played Zed to utter perfection, killing everyone he saw, causing all the female fans to begin toeing the line of infidelity.

During the MVP interview after the match, everyone held their breath and eagerly watched this newcomer.

Only to see the boy accept the microphone, smile and ask, “That water friend with the StarTV user ID ‘Suburb King 101,’ my team’s address is on the official website, when will you mail your head over?”

After a certain regular season match finished, the staff member went backstage to urge the team members to go onstage and conduct their interviews, only to see TTC’s new mid laner and jungler standing in the corner.

TTC’s number one ace · jungler daddy Road pressed their team’s new mid laner Soft against the wall. He lowered his eyes and asked lowly, “At the interview, do you know what you did?”

That quick-tempered mid laner, who had solidified his image as a troll in the audience’s eyes the very first time he went on stage, turned completely red. “I know. I won’t curse at anyone… I definitely won’t curse at anyone.”

Five years ago, Gu Jiayu, who climbed out of the mountain nest, entered the entertainment circle in order to cultivate, and in order to overcome the shortcomings of emotional gaps, he used an excellent acting skill to hook up a Chinese “little nobleman” abroad. After a month of falling in love and feeling love, he ran away with guilty conscience after the other party proposed marriage.

Five years later, Gu Yingdi had become popular all over the country, but he had a four-year-old son beside him. 

One day, the little handsome guy pointed at the man who took up the entire page in the financial newspaper and said, “Dad, this man looks like me!” Gu Jiayi glanced at the calm, handsome man in a suit and shoes in the newspaper, and asked with a guilty conscience, “He has an onion head, and his body is black and black like the top post. Are you sure you look like him?” That night, “Top Door Post” came to the door … Gu Jiayu, “My son, hide your tail!”

- Description from Novelupdates

“Is this man not going to divorce me? Why does he still ask me to warm the bed every night?”

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.”