MTL - To Four Thousand Years Later - v5 Chapter 94 two newborns

What happens when you really want to protect someone but feel weak?Will you let it all consumme you? Or will you fight for it.Watch as insanity consumes our main character Bael as he works his fucking body out to protect those who are dear to him.(A/N: Please show support for more!)

Nobody knew at the beginning of “Heaven” that the game itself would be awakened and gain complete self awareness to forid paying for game credits. After 10 years of development, Heaven's game credit has become the only currency interchangeable between reality and virtual reality. Inside the room, a player raises a pistol and points it at his very own head. Previously, he led a comfortable life as the son of a rich couple. But now, he was in a state of misery and destitution because of Heaven. He travels 10 years back in time and returns to the point in time when Heaven was to begin in a week's time. Being reborn, what was Chu You going to decide this time... P. S. The storyline is toxic and the protagonist is hardly sane. He is consumed by vengeance and acts wantonly. For entertainment solely. Read at your own risk.

“Sect Master! Marry me!”If only things were that simple.Fang Yuan lets out a long sigh, eyes fixed on the mountain of paperwork threatening to swallow his desk and his soul.As the youngest family head in history, you’d think he’d be enjoying fame, fortune, and fawning admirers.Instead, he’s buried in bureaucracy, stuck mediating elder disputes, and wondering if the sect treasury mysteriously eats spirit stones.Sure, the old geezers have their experience, their beards, and their lofty reputations.But Fang Yuan? He has one thing they don’t: raw, unshakable power.Born into a world where innate talent reigns supreme, Fang Yuan—a transmigrator armed with modern grit—actually managed the impossible: he clawed his way to the top with nothing but relentless hard work.While everyone else coasted on heavenly bloodlines and golden physiques, he trained, he studied, and he schemed.Now, he’s strong enough to bend heaven’s will.But cultivation isn’t all sword beams and glory.Life as a family head comes with its own set of woes—namely, watching his annoyingly handsome junior brother collect all the female attention like some kind of walking romance novel.“This isn’t fair,” Fang Yuan mutters under his breath, stamping another scroll. “I’m the protagonist here... right?”

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.”