MTL - Shanwa Small Rich Farmers - Chapter 717 hiding place

“Titus Zane, since you've done it, you have to bear the consequences!”At the engagement banquet of childhood sweethearts, Titus Zane is drunk.Sitting on the fourth-floor viewing platform, watching the man approaching step by step, she says, Nathan Moore, let's make a deal. If I jump from here and don't die, then let me go...Fine, his emotionless response was a single word, displaying his ruthlessness.Titus Zane smiled, the curve of her lips beautifully tragic and dazzling, slowly spreading her arms, her body leaning backward, leaving only an empty wine glass and a woman's shoe on the platform.Later, someone tells Titus Zane that the mother she trusted most was not her biological mother but a mistress who usurped the position, and the murderer of her biological mother... When the secret is revealed, Titus Zane discovers that her mother's kindness was merely a ploy to obtain her healthy heart...Note: The main characters in this story are emotionally and physically pure. It's a story of torment followed by love, feel free to dive in.

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.”

The world has ended. I’m the only survivor left in the shelter. But by my side is the world’s most advanced AI, Artemis.