MTL - Immortal - v13 Chapter 117 Zhu Xiong wins the treasure

The night before her wedding, her world shattered.Betrayed by her own sister and abandoned by her fiancé, who demanded her kidney as the price for his love, she thought her life was over. But she refused to be a victim.At the altar, she made a bold move: she called off the wedding and declared she’d marry anyone willing to step up. To everyone’s shock, he—the richest and most powerful man in the city—stepped forward, claiming it was his “duty” to marry her.Overnight, she went from a betrayed bride to the wife of her ex-fiancé’s uncle, turning the tables on everyone who wronged her. From navigating family drama to outsmarting scheming rivals, she rose to become the undisputed queen of both families, building an empire of her own.Now, with a thriving career and a husband who adores her, she’s living her best life. But when her husband calls, begging her to come home because their twins are “starving for attention,” she knows her chaotic yet glorious life is just getting started.

I lived for you in the last lifetime, everything I did was for you, yet you wanted me to die; so, this time, life is mine to live! This world lied to me, betrayed me, and humiliated me, and I am back to change everything!

- Description from Novelupdates

so, reincarnation huh?“a lot of good... a lot of bad... balanced karma.” “good news you get one boon to bring with you to the next life. unfortunately for you though, you don't get to choose. totally random. ready?”join Apollo in his new life where through sheer luck (good or bad?) is raised by an all hungry, all dominant and all loving hivemind who will burn the galaxy just to see him smile.

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.”