Martial Defiance Across Nine Thousand Realms - Chapter 27 – You’re dead, do you know that?

As the Evil Deity of the Earth, the Ruler of the Wasteland, and the Mother of Desolation, Bai Lianyue now finds herself utterly bewildered, pinned down on a bed. Over a decade ago, in a moment of carelessness, she inadvertently ended the life of the Daughter of the Gods. Wracked with guilt, Bai Lianyue took it upon herself to raise the three children the divine daughter had left behind. Her original plan was simple: wait for the children to grow up and…

Meng Huaiyin accidentally traveled to another world, and chose to participate in the romance drama because he was penniless.

However, what she didn’t expect was that there was a person who followed her all the way to Lianshan when she just crossed over.

Meng Huaiyin: shivering.jpg

The show just started:

Xiao Nanqi stared at Meng Huaiyin with sharp eyes like a knife, but Meng Huaiyin was so frightened that the melon in his hand dropped.

Barrage:

[He loves her so much, it was love at first sight yyds. ]

[Running in both directions, Grandpa is here. ]

[Woohoo, please lock up the two of you.]

Meng Huaiyin: Excuseme? ?

The love and killing of the dog hero and the dog heroine are daily.

[Come here, they are not human anymore, kick over this bowl of dog food. ]

Xiao Nanqi & Meng Huaiyin: Thank you for the invitation, I am not human 🙂

- Description from novelbuddy

When Xia Qingyi wakes up and finds herself in a hospital without any memories of her past, what else can she do other than to approach the person who had saved her?

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.”