PREVIEW

... onal culture for many years. It has always been relatively conservative. Even now it is a new era, all aspects have gradually opened up and moved closer to Western countries. However, public appearances are still public figures and stars. Even in the open western countries, which are still controversial, let alone domestic.

But fortunately, two girls came out publicly, and they were both goddess levels, which was more acceptable than two men. People, always have an inexplicable impression ...

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After rebirth, Liu Jian exposed his hidden nature and squandered his youth recklessly.

“I will invest in any company I like, and I will get my hands on any woman I like.”

He is not a gentleman, and in order to achieve his goal, he will resort to tricks and schemes, and he will get revenge. Like a nouveau riche, wearing a big gold necklace, driving a sports car, and vigorously chasing women.

When he grew into a towering tree, he realized that he had unknowingly changed the world, and the woman under him already had a strengthened platoon!

113512389 reward subscription group! What to do? Lao Tzu’s goal of beheading thousands of people has not yet been achieved, and it seems that he will continue to work hard. A certain man who crossed the notebook murmured.

This book is on the shelves, and I hope that wolf friends will continue to support it! The pure cool text is waiting for you to watch, don’t wait until it disappears to regret it! ! ! Wolf friends group: 254750819! ! !

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After assisting the man she loves with all her heart to the throne, Li Wanrou dies miserably in the cold palace, her dead body wrapped in a broken mat and thrown into the disorderly funeral hillock.

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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.”