MTL - Correct Posture For Redemption - Chapter 63 ,Small dogs

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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Xu Nange got married, but she didn’t know that her husband who fell from the sky was actually the richest man!

One is an illegitimate daughter who has never been exposed to the public. She has been crawling around since she was a child, struggling to survive.

One is the proud son of heaven, aloof.

The status of the two people was very different. Everyone was waiting for Xu Nange to be kicked out. But when they waited, they only waited for a circle of friends from the richest man:

“Honey, can you not get a divorce?”

Crowd:? ?

[Strong female, vest, boss, strong showdown, 1V1]

- Description from novelbuddy

Longevity Celestial Dynasty, Nine Years of Destiny.

China is in chaos, and the people are struggling to live.

The imperial rule collapsed, and the Western barbarians attacked with the religion of the gods.

The new warlords are everywhere, and they are divided into one side.

Natural disasters such as floods and droughts, the overturning of the earth dragon, the sandstorm tornado, the acid rain, the red moon, and the falling of meteorites have come one after another.

There are also countless monsters running rampant, strange clusters, ghosts and ghosts, indescribable monsters, or mysterious phenomena that cannot be understood.

In this dark and chaotic world, Tao Qian opened his eyes and found himself a prisoner who was about to be beheaded in Caishikou…!

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”