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... ru could sense that Lakeman was not a bloodthirsty person. He wasn't like those moody Celestial Dragons who took pleasure in killing. Lakeman was rational and calm.

But what could have happened that led Lakeman to execute twenty-three people in one go? And those twenty-three people looked like they were no ordinary individuals!

"I need to report this to the Marshal," Kizaru thought solemnly.

He took out his phone and dialed Marshal Sengoku. He did not act without permissi ...

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Her rebirth gave her a second chance at life. She was back with a vengeance and wanted to make those that had harmed her pay. But to those that helped her, she wanted to repay them. Her evil stepmother? She would slowly pull out her claws, one by one. Her evil stepsister? She would crush her pride. She thought that by getting her revenge for her past life, she would be happy in this life. However, she never would have thought that danger would chance upon her time and time again. The hatred from her clan and whether their bloodline would continue to exist, lay solely on her shoulders. Luckily, on this thorny path, someone had always been protecting her. “Third Prince, have you ever regretted being with me?” That person laughed lightly and peered at her with a loving yet weary look, “As long as I am together with you, I have no regrets.”

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“Spiritual Affairs” is a highly popular psychic network, but it is a pity that the whole network is full of ridicule.

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Every time the show starts, billions of ghosts are standing in front of the screen watching the program and commenting on it——-

“This guy is bloody, his soul is hooked by a ghost. What’s wrong with my horse’s face?”

“It’s good to touch bones. Can’t you touch the soul without touching the bones?”

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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.”

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“That’s a jinx and must be rid of. It’s that or you and your family get out of here.”

Su Xiaolu was transmigrated into this world as a newborn, and the instant she opened her eyes, she was deemed a burden and a jinx by a venomous grandmother-in-law.

Her father, Su Sanlang, gritted his teeth and said, “Alright then, you can separate us from the family and we’ll leave.”

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Despite being called a jinx, she became the apprentice of a divine physician at the age of three, inherited his legacy, and became known to the world. She treated her brothers’ brain disease and her eldest brother became a profound martial artist while her second brother became a scholar. They all brought glory to their family.

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Her family grew more prosperous and their horrible relatives showed up, trying to ride their coattails.

Su Xiaolu smirked. “Close the gates and release the tiger!”