MTL - Han’s Son is Not a Slave - Chapter 142 hell

“Ah……painful”

Lying on the cold operating table, the girl’s sentimental feelings faded, a mysterious man took her innocence.

Meeting again, the mysterious man was actually a black bellied VIP, capturing her home, wanting to spoil her.

“Reporting to the Boss, some slag man came looking for the madame.”

“Directly bury him alive.”

“Reporting to the Boss, some slag lady was jealous that the Mrs. came first in a medical contest, and slapped the lady in the face.”

“Her slag face will be broken, send her straight to hell on earth to die.”

“Reporting to the Boss, the enemy is going to catch your wife and use her as a military doctor.”

“Immediately dispatch the armed forces, and bomb the enemy!”

“Reporting to the boss, the lady ran away from home, she said to tell the president she wants to give him a child……”

“F***, I did not feed her last night! Catch her, the army has seven days and seven nights of holiday, I have business to attend to!”

- Description from Novelupdates

When the eldest prince Luo Fei reached 18 years old, the database automatically screened the genes of omegas across the entire empire for matching. The only son of a wealthy businessman, Mo Lin, had a gene match of more than 90% with the eldest prince. However, the moment he saw Mo Lin, Luo Fei learned that this omega is a sick child with paralyzed legs, hemiplegia, and severe mental illness???

It was a dangerous era. Extraterritorial ferocious beasts occupied 90% of the living space in the world, while humans could only survive in a small space. Fortunately, some of the surviving humans awakened to genetic martial arts! Breaking the shackles of one’s genetics was the foundation of cultivating martial arts. Lin Feng, who was born with congenital disease, could not experience a breakthrough. However, by some fateful encounter, he awakened to the ability to merge genes.

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.