Awakening the Daily Intelligence System - Chapter 832 - 417, Death God_2

Ye Nanqi and Shen Du upgraded from being enemies to love rivals, fighting against each other for the affections of a pure-hearted girl. Except, on the day of the pure-hearted girl’s wedding, they ended up rolling together on the bed, and unexpectedly got married to each other.

After the marriage, the two thought of countless ways to make the other party be the one who asks for divorce, but when Ye Nanqi took on the role of the “bad husband” by bringing up divorce first, his love rival changed his mind.

Shen Du: “Not divorcing.”

Ye Nanqi: “…”

Shen Du: “Not even in death will we part.”

The pure-hearted girl, “???”

The love rivals turning into lovers scene–although it does not have sweet and sticky typical entertaining scenes, lacks gold finger cheats, and the back story is slightly dark and exaggerated–in fact, this story is a tasty big cookie = w =

- Description from Novelupdates

Until he became the lowest-ranked master, his lonely and luckless life never changed.

Suddenly one day, a descendant injected him with a nanomachine, and the machine started ‘speaking’ to him.

“What? What are you talking about?”

This was beyond the boy’s knowledge, he turned pale.

The Nanomachine linked to his cerebrum realized the User was not understanding a single word it said.

“Who are you, and why are you doing this to me?”

“Nano Mashin?”

The boy’s face hardened.

Mashin was the deity the Mashin Religion worshipped, along with the Sacred Fire.

The religions’ Master communicated with Mashin.

“Um, are you really Mashin?”

The boy knelt down and asked with a trembling voice. At this, the Nanomachine attached to his cerebrum realized it had been misunderstood.

Yasuo Zoldyck, an assassin who was once a biologist seeking to extinguish the limits set upon him- To no avail.

Now, in a world where the impossible is possible, how far will his researching mind push him? Can he break those limits?

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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.”