MTL - Emergency Doctor Mercenary Road - Chapter 1087 Doomsday Wasteland Showdown 1

“Mr. Lei, rumor has it that you have a crush on me?”

With a cold icy face, the man ignored her question and continued reading his documents. He later decided to explain himself, “I swear to God I want nothing to do with you! The b*stard who spread the rumor is a dog!”

Snap! Suddenly, a pencil snapped in his hands while their eyes meet. The surrounding seemed to have frozen.

A few moments passed…

“Grrr woof!” Lei Xiao barked…

I am a vampire, possessing the body of the villainess in the novel.

I want to live quietly so I can live peacefully.

When I saw the Duke of Esteban, I lost all my reason and bit his neck.

Duke of Esteban just so happens to be the greatest figure in the empire.

I didn’t have enough strength to fight the desire, so I slept with him…

I’m in trouble. Let’s erase his memory and run.

“Your Excellency asked me to convey a message ‘I let you have my neck and body, but you threw it all away and ran.’”

What are you saying?

Does he remember?

Later, there was a strange declaration of war after we met.

“Don’t avoid me and let’s continue to meet. Also, when you need blood, come find me.”

Duke, would you please stay away from me?

It’s hard to breathe because of your taste.

In a world entrenched by monsters filled with myriad factions, state disputes run wild. Amid these troubling times, martial arts have come to prominence and prosper.

Xu Ning transmigrates to this world with a Martial Arts Panel and becomes an ordinary villager. He only has one goal in mind: to become a master of martial arts.

Spend three energy points to level up Gale Knife Technique? Yes/no

Yes! Hell yes!

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.”