Grasping Evil - Chapter 509 - Striking Awe Into One Hundred Sects (3)

“My pants are already off. Stopping now would be a bit redundant, don’t you think?”

Everyone knew the cool, aristocratic Chairman Li was sick, but only Rong Yan knew the man was problematic and sick in the head. That day, she was accosted at the bedroom entrance. Long arms held her against her will as the man leaned into her ear and whispered, “Marry me.” Rong Yan struggled to no avail. Frustrated, she said, “I have a boyfriend of five years.”

“You mean my son is your boyfriend?”

For her baby boy, she was willing to secretly marry this billionaire chairman. From then on, he held the knife for her kills, and poured the gasoline as she set fires. Everyone knew the chairman was possessive and paranoid—and Rong Yan was his bottom line. The five-year-old Li Duidui was at a loss. When Daddy and Mommy fought, was he supposed to help clear up the misunderstanding or close the door on them…

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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.”

He is the master of six kingdoms. As long as he wanted, his cavalry is ready to wipe off any country.

“You died.”That was what the mysterious figure told him, but then he was given a second chance for the good deeds that he did in his previous life.“Super Prodigal System!”“Cultivate to immortality by wasting as much money as you can!”For the former number one prodigal of Earth, this was the perfect system!