MTL - The Rumored Second Son - Chapter 72 promise

When Li Shen’s second personality acts out, her consciousness is sent to a strange place called Split Zone No.13. She is then informed that she can only return home after unraveling the truth.

One day, after five years of living in the shadow of the popular actor—Mo Boyuan, Dr. Jiang suddenly decided that she had enough!

Bai XiaoHu has been a nine-tailed fox since birth and is always proud of her nine big and fluffy tails. However, when she was going through ‘heaven’s test’, the judgmental lightning burned all nine of her tails, leaving her with an empty back.

Bai Xiaohu was shocked, devastated, and raged; she has no choice but to look all over the world trying to find a way to grow her tails back.

Then she suddenly recalled that she once encountered a poor little white kitten several hundred years back, and to help him become enlightened, she offered him fur from each of her nine tails, helping to cultivate him into a nine-tail cat. Since his tails came from hers, if he is willing to give her one tail, she can attach it back to herself!

Thus, she started looking for that nine-tailed cat everywhere, only to find out he isn’t a part of the heavenly court and instead reincarnated into a human and had gone through several lives in the mortal world. In addition, the moral world he is now in is raging evil energy, which will cause it to collapse soon.

As the leader of the No. 1 mercenary team in the ‘last days’, Lu Ye was always respected and feared by everyone up until a little girl joined his team.

The little girl looked quite delicate, but super empowered when beating the zombies. Lu Ye’s only problem is that she keeps staring at his butt.

Couldn’t bear it anymore, Lu Ye cornered the girl: “What are you looking at after all?”

But who would’ve expected the girl to suddenly burst into tears: “Where are your tails?”

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”