MTL - Heroic Death System - Chapter 5 It takes only 72 hours to fall in love with you.

My Beautiful Teacher tells the story of a university graduate Qin Chao who can’t seem to find a job and is in a downward spiral in his life. Then one night as he walks home from another failed job interview, a vase hits his head, making him get possessed by an old and powerful evil spirit sealed in that vase and following another incidents, inadvertently saved a mysterious university teacher Su Ji, thereby opening his path to cultivation, he also manages to get a job as a security guard at Guangyuan School. A series of adventures then took place as he deals with all kinds of supernatural beings.

- Description from Novelupdates

Ace bodyguard Ziyu encountered the worst time travel in history——

In the beginning, the father was unjustly killed, the mother was angered to death, the family property was taken over by the nobles of the Hou family, and a two-year-old brother was left behind to be fed.

?Fortunately, her own space is still there, but unfortunately only ten acres of dry fish ponds, two multi-functional agricultural machines, two villas, and an 800-square-meter steel basement are left.

No matter how powerful your palace is, I will move all your property into the space.

Cloth, embroidery, furs, ready-made clothes, shoes, all collected;

Medicinal materials, grains, cakes, chickens, ducks and fish are all collected;

Groceries, porcelain, jade, curios, calligraphy and paintings, all collected.

Like locusts passing by, leaving nothing behind.

Empty tens of millions of taels of gold and silver from the enemy’s treasury, and by the way expose his true face of rebellion, and then escape.

When natural disasters strike, including floods, snowstorms, and wolf smoke, Ziyu is able to dominate and ensure safety…

- 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.”

There’s an ancient saying in Great Ruins, ‘Don’t go outside when it’s dark.’