MTL - I Ship My Adversary X Me - Chapter 32

Two Zatarian youths embark on a cross-dimensional journey to uncover their true identities, encountering both allies and formidable adversaries along the way.They must collaborate to decipher the significance of the symbol imprinted on them, but a faction known as the Nitharians seeks to eliminate them before they can uncover the truth. Naburo, the leader of the Nitharians, has dispatched his most trusted son and his team to guarantee the success of this mission.Will Naburo's son and his team prevail before the Zatarians discover their true selves?

Lin Youning had spent her life in hardship, enduring everything until her son finally became the top scholar. Just as she was ready to enjoy her twilight years, Gu Yixuan’s visit made her so furious she choked—and died.Reborn, Lin Youning has only one goal: to live well and die of natural causes.

Billions have perished, leaving only a few million survivors.After his death, Eric is summoned to another world that has been nearly destroyed by corruption.The gods’ influence has all but vanished, and it is up to him to rally the remaining survivors, reclaim the land they lost, and restore the gods’ cathedrals.In doing so, he grows stronger, inching closer to awakening the gods from their eternal slumber.Time is running out.Not only are unimaginable abominations preparing to strike, but Eric faces a deadly challenge from within.His system, a mysterious force aiding him, comes with a dire warning:[WARNING][Each time the system responds, it consumes host essence. When essence runs out, the host’s soul will perish along with the system.][Recommendation: Communicate only when absolutely necessary.][Current essence: 940][1 essence = 1 word generated by the system.][Choose your next words wisely.]

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.”