MTL - I Created Mythic Revival - Chapter 102 Contract and Transformation

She was there only for a blind date, but had been mistaken as the third person to seduce the men. She angrily cursed, “I don't know that scum!” As a result, she had been pestered by this “scum” ever since.

She became his wife because of an agreement of “secret marriage”. They clearly said that they wouldn't touch each other, but this Mr. Huo actually went back on his word in the blink of an eye. Not only did he forcibly take her body, but he also wanted her heart. “I want —” “Well, I’ll satisfy you!” He agreed immediately. However, what she actually wanted to say was, “I want a divorce,” but she ended up being carried to bed by him …

After the battle, the beautiful senior sister shyly raised her face in front of you and slowly closed her eyes. At this time, you…

Eh? The choice this time was too simple. Of course, it was four.

Having lived a normal life all his life and died without being able to fulfill his desire and when he’s given a task by a god, watch how he takes the protagonists girls while making it hard for the hero.

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.”