MTL - I Became the Favorite of Big Bosses - Chapter 157 Letter (plus updates)

Netorase or Voyeurism:A story about a guy and his childhood friend. He discovers a strange fetish. She loves him deeply and follows his ideas. It may or may not be interpreted as netorase.They’re a couple, but he doesn’t love her romantically. He’s obsessed with another woman. She loves him so desperately that she’s willing to do anything for him.Main Tag: Erostory

Anne Allistair has long forgotten about romance since her failed marriage to Thomas Brown. Now she wants a simple life, one that doesn’t require her having her heart broken again. However, things take a wild turn when she walks into the office of her boss, Riccardo Antonelli. His charm is inescapable, even for Anne who’s heart sought no romantic affairs. Now caught in his web, Anne must make a choice; risk losing her job for the sake of her fragile heart, or remain the secret woman who shared a bed with her boss.

Inescapable fate ends here. Only Gilded Ashes remain.[FREE 50 CHAPTERS BEFORE LOCK]When shadows devour his home, Raizen is left with nothing but grief - and a vow to hunt down and kill every Nyx. At his side stands Hikari, a mysterious girl with no past but a dark fate she cannot escape.From the ashes of loss to The Underworks, to the halls of Neoshima's Lotus Academy - assassins, wardens, hidden enemies, unexpected traitors and all sorts of rivals will test them at every step. Secrets stir, powers awaken, and the line between hope and despair blurs, making them wonder what being “human” truly means. As the darkness spreads, one truth remains:The real battle has only just begun.

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.”