MTL - Monster Factory - Chapter 912 : Security gate

Easily cowed and bullied, she was the useless, ugly woman with no talent in medical skills. Supported by millions, he was Tianning’s most respected duke with the power to move all under Heaven. On their wedding day the bridal sedan was carried to the front doors, but the Duke of Qin’s gates were shut tight.

They told her, ‘Come back tomorrow.’

All alone, she walked step-by-step full of pride through the duke’s doors. Little could they imagine, this unattractive good-for-nothing was a beautiful, genius doctor of poisons!

—

After transmigrating to the past, poisons expert Han Yunxi finds herself on the verge of being married off to the country’s second most powerful man, the Duke of Qin. Her future life seems set–except her husband is an unfeeling ice block, her in-laws think she’s a eyesore, the empress dowager wants to use her for her own goals, and poison-related plots abound.

Alone, the intelligent (and sensible) Yunxi must carve her own space from the intricate web of court intrigue and the jianghu, relying on her words, wits, and wisdom to survive. Adapt when necessary, use force when required; to survive and thrive is the name of the game to a prosperous life.

No matter what, she’ll prove her right to live!

- Description from novelupdates

In a parallel world, everyone awakened to weapon talents. They used divine weapons to battle against ferocious creatures.

Hence, the Forgemaster job class was born and was held in high esteem.

Wu Mo transmigrated to this world and became a student of the top academy, Divine Arms Academy.

The end-of-semester practical exam was in three days. Students were required to forge a divine weapon on the spot.

However, he was not prepared at all!

Fortunately, he awakened a system which allowed him to see the blueprints of all mythical weapons.

[Mjolnir]

[Divine Bow of the Winter God]

[Eternal Spear]

[Shield of Zeus]

…

Since he was a blacksmith, he decided to create a hammer for himself first.

On the day of the end-of-semester exam, the whole world was astonished!

An examiner exclaimed, “We asked you to submit your assignment and you are submitting Mjolnir?”

Five years ago, Gu Jiayu, who climbed out of the mountain nest, entered the entertainment circle in order to cultivate, and in order to overcome the shortcomings of emotional gaps, he used an excellent acting skill to hook up a Chinese “little nobleman” abroad. After a month of falling in love and feeling love, he ran away with guilty conscience after the other party proposed marriage.

Five years later, Gu Yingdi had become popular all over the country, but he had a four-year-old son beside him. 

One day, the little handsome guy pointed at the man who took up the entire page in the financial newspaper and said, “Dad, this man looks like me!” Gu Jiayi glanced at the calm, handsome man in a suit and shoes in the newspaper, and asked with a guilty conscience, “He has an onion head, and his body is black and black like the top post. Are you sure you look like him?” That night, “Top Door Post” came to the door … Gu Jiayu, “My son, hide your tail!”

- 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.”