Da Tang Shuang Long Zhuan - Book 63: Chapter 9: Brotherhood

[This is your typical story where there is a System of unknown origin given to mankind, and the existence of Towers, Dungeons, and Constellations, the known or unknown ‘Gods and Demons’ of humanity’s collection of myths.]

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— Ding!

[Astronomical Event!]

An event called 'Emergence of Races' struck the human world where the planet Earth was stretched out like dough causing it to become seven times its original diameter.

Various Towers and Dungeons sprouted out of nowhere that caused an earthquake that broke the seismic scale.

Billions of humans died in the process that crumbled human society in an instant.

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And just like that, Russell Moon reincarnated in the world of his-considered-failure unpublished novel [The Forgotten Swordsman of Ruined Star], sixteen (16) years before the beginning of the ‘Main Story’ which was set forty (40) years after the Emergence of Races.

And due to that very reason, the existence of 'Untouched and Unknown elements' came back to bite him!

'Why did I write that way?'

Russell Moon lamented.

I, Rorschach, the god of the world, the most powerful Kryptonian, the leader of the Justice League, the founder of the Emperor Organization, the gravedigger of countless civilizations in the multiverse, the most handsome man in the world, there is no one!

…………

PS: The non-standard MCU universe can be regarded as a similar parallel universe. The timeline is based on this book, first Marvel Universe, then DC, X-Men…

- Description from novelbuddy

Living together with my ex-husband?

Sarah never thought she would one day meet Michael, her ex-husband, again in the operating room with his body full of wounds and needing treatment from her.

They were already divorced for three years, and Sarah didn’t have a good memory of the man. If she could… she would have let him die. However, she was a doctor, and a doctor's job was to save patients.

Sarah immediately regretted her decision to save the man because it turned out that Michael had amnesia and remembered that they just got married!

To make matters worse, she stupidly accepted her ex-in-law's request to pretend to remain Michael's wife while taking care of him. Why did she do that?

However… during the time she spent with her ex-husband, Michael's attitude was very different from what Sarah had last remembered. He was very gentle… and loving. It made the feelings she thought were gone, come up to the surface.

Would Sarah be able to deal with her feelings? What would happen when Michael's memory suddenly returned? Would his attitude stay the same?

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EXCERPT:

“Wifey,” Michael called, looking at Sarah who was lying beside him.

“Hm,” Sarah answered curtly, not looking at Michael.

“I think I'm healthy.”

Sarah's body stiffened when she heard that. Was Michael healthy? Did that mean he had remembered everything? Would he scold her for tricking him?

“Wifey? Why are you silent? I think I'm healthy and I can do it,” Michael said quietly.

“What do you mean?” Sarah finally looked at Michael with raised eyebrows. “Do what?”

“Making babies.”

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.”