MTL - Mecha and Knife - Chapter 827 Sorry, I am not afraid of death, but I can not die.

Zhang Ruo Chen was the sole male heir of one of the nine emperors of the Kunlun Field. Ruo Chen’s father was known to all as the “Enlightened Emperor”, however Ruo Chen didn’t just leech off his status as emperor’s son. He proved himself to be a dragon amongst men, possessing a heaven defying body, and managing to cultivate to Greater Perfection within the Yellow Horizon Realm, at just the young age of 16.

Liv Hamelsvoort, who bears the label of the ‘Fake Saintess’ and is the laughingstock of high society for her unrequited love for Duke Lartman. No one could understand her, but she likewise couldn’t understand them.“I’m in the middle of enduring the love of the gods.”There was a world that ordinary humans couldn’t dare to comprehend.“Who harmed my child?”“Does my child not exist in this world?”“I don’t need a world where the child I love doesn’t exist.”The moment the enormous things she had been bearing were revealed, Liv’s life finally began to change.“I will love you in any timeline, Your Grace.”Liv was content as long as she could continue loving. But if she wanted to protect that love, she had to change; the world was whispering that to her.

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.”

When Linger was looking for a job, he applied for a bartender at a bar, but the guests who came here seemed strange.

What can a female warrior wearing very little, an armor that can’t even protect her eyesight, protect against?

How did the calamity mage who owed a hundred luck points survive until now?

Melancholic and lonely Skeletor, Skeleton? drink wine? Please don’t waste it!

The devil who likes the hero, since he is the devil, please do your job well, OK?

…

Well, he was getting used to these strange guests.

(Unknown Uncomfortable Sky: “Presenting Fine Wine for a Wonderful Different World”, “Sword and Magic and Beautiful Girls”, “Wine of Beautiful Girls”, “God-level Bartender of the Other World”, “I’m Really Not the God of Dionysus”)

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