Longevity: Starting from the Qi Tags - Chapter 1213 - 523: The Might of the True Spirit Realm, Not Merely Equal to True Immortals, but Far Surpassing Them!_3

The only way to stop the earth’s doom.Is to seduce the girl who is the student council president.

She reincarnated, she died when she was twenty, the murderer pushed her to the road in the glare of public eye. However, within the people ——

Her respectful father said to the murderer: Don’t take it to your heart, this is not your fault.

Her loving-kindness mother said to the murderer: Don’t worry, I still got you, you’re much better than my real daughter.

Her lovely brother said to the murderer: Tsk, this kind of woman should have just die earlier, her existence embarrasses me.

Her beloved man said to the murderer: You’re the only one I loved from the start.

The murderer was moved to tears, as if she was the only pure white lotus that remains in this world, nobody notices her vicious and scarcely smile.

Hence ——

When everything resets, she swears she will take everything back and make her pay twice the price, she desires to become the princess where everyone comforts her for murdering a person too. She’ll definitely make that person who stole everything from her to experience the deepest agony in her soul.

//

Before he was in love with her, he calmly said: “I can sense the smell of crime on her.”

After he was in love with her, his face was cold but his heart was warm: “I can sense the smell that turns me into a crime on her.”

She said: “Can I keep your corpse into my collection when you die?”

He said: “Are you going to r*pe me day and night?”

She said: “I just want to make you into a mummy.”

He said: “I didn’t know you were so hardcore, using this kind of method to make me stay by your side forever.”

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”