MTL - Hogwarts Card System - Chapter 6 The ultimate worker form!

At the end of the story, I found myself in the body of a hidden villain, betraying the heroines. Since I’m not particularly concerned about the end of the world, I’m calmly waiting for the finale… “You’re the only one who truly appreciated my painting of the boa.” “When I make plans to meet you at four, my heart starts racing at three... is this what they call being tamed?” For some reason, the heroines are starting to take an interest in me.

After the nuclear warfare, massacres started to spread throughout the entire world. The order between humans completely collapses, and the strong eats while the weak gets eaten becomes the #1 rule.

The 18-year-old Tong Yan has gotten married. The marriage partner looks mature and handsome, but also serious and stubborn. After living together, he felt that the other man was just seriously raising a child. At least before they got together, Tong Yan never thought he was capable of speaking such words as “I can’t sleep because I miss you so much”.

A fuming Tong Yan after pregnancy: Don’t tease me (╥╯ ^ ╰╥)

A Zhuo Xiang Ming asking for a good morning kiss while fixing his tie: People who constantly feel they’re being teased say they’re afraid to speak

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”