MTL - Host, I’m Here To Accompany You To Pretend - Chapter 304

This novel is also known as Turns Out, I'm from a Real Aristocratic Family!

After staying in the Bai family for eighteen years, Ou Yan realized that she was a fake daughter. The real daughter came back, she was abandoned, and she was about to be sent back to the poor mountain valley…

Unexpectedly, the so-called poor mountain valley was actually the most expensive villa area for rich people in the whole country! Overnight, she changed from a fake daughter of an ordinary wealthy family to a real daughter of a top wealthy family!

The biological parents dote on their daughters like crazy, they spend tens of millions in pocket money, drive the luxury cars in the garage, and buy high-end products all over the world. Want to go to school? You can choose from top schools! Don’t want to go? Come, the company at home will play with it! What Ouyan didn’t expect the most was that she actually had a fiancé…

The fiancé came to the door and wanted to divorce, but Ouyan didn’t care, but why did this person entangle her after mentioning the divorce? Every now and then I want to hold my little hand and kiss my little mouth.

Ouyan was annoyed, “Sir, who are you?”

“Baby, I’m your husband.”

“Oh, no husband, only one ex-fiancé who wants to divorce.”

The world’s richest man, Si Yechen, who was feared by everyone outside: “… ”

I really want to kill that idiot who made a high-profile divorce without even meeting her…

- Description from novelbuddy

A Journey Across Time, A Battle for FreedomWhat if you could go back in time?What would you do?Stop the world war?Stop slavery?When Joseph Situma, a modern-day man, is thrust back to the year 1542, he is reborn as Khisa Lusweti, the son of a village chief in Eastern Africa. Struggling to bridge the gap between his past life and his new reality, Khisa must navigate the brutal tides of history. But as he uncovers the looming horrors of the transatlantic slave trade, he realizes that fate has given him a chance—an opportunity to change the course of history.Armed with knowledge beyond his years and the trust of a people who see him as both a leader and a boy, Khisa must unite warriors, outthink ruthless enemies, and fight for a future that was never meant to be. But history is not so easily rewritten, and with every victory comes a greater challenge.Will he defy destiny, or will the weight of the past crush him before he can break the chains of oppression?A gripping tale of resilience, strategy, and the unyielding spirit of a people on the brink of war.

Traveling to an overhead urban world where martial arts and immortal arts coexist, the only thing Lin Shen can rely on is the avatar Golden Finger.

Cultivate in avatar, the main body becomes stronger.

Clone [Pure Yang Body]: Yang attribute skills training speed +300%, Blazing Sun Palm, Melting Soldiers Hand, Qianyang Sword Art… Any Yang attribute skills can be easily mastered, and a thousand miles a day!

Clone [Natural Dao Body]: Practice speed +500%, all martial arts skills can be understood at a glance, mastered, and crushed all geniuses!

Clone [Sword God Wuwo]: The power of swordsmanship skills +200%, the speed of swordsmanship skills training +200%, let you be tyrannical, I will kill you with one sword!

 …

“You never know how many avatars are working hard behind the person chatting with you in front of you!”

“The avatar did it, what does it have to do with my body?”

“What I’m most afraid of is that others will bully the few with the more, anyway, not as many as me!”

- 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.”