MTL - Tyrant Daddy’s Petite Bag - Chapter 2344 Fortunately, Xi Li is not their enemy

The obsessed Big Brother, the loyal God, the yandere Vampire, the cold Honor’s Student…

When a grand variety of Prince Charmings arrive continuously, what should a person feel like? Luo Liyan held her poor aching waist, raised her head to the skies and sighed, give them to whoever wants them!

“What, want to run after seducing me?” That man with strong possessiveness approached little by little, trapping her in a corner. “Little Yan, what type do you like? I can always satisfy you, as long as you stay at my side!”

Looking at that man who seemed more devilish the more he smiled, Luo Liyan trembled as she hugged herself.

Cries… So terrifying. Who the hell forcefully gave and took like this guy?

- Description from Novelupdates

Luo Zheng is at the bottom of the Luo Clan hierarchy, despite his family being the founders of a power refining technique that could instantly defeat any opponent.

One night, enraged by unfair treatment from a family steward, Luo Zheng burns the family records. In doing so, the hidden magic in the book engulfs him and Luo Zheng becomes a new skilled fighter. Fleeing his home and despicable clan, Luo Zheng must learn to harness his powers to rescue his younger sister while his own cousins are on his pursuit.

- Description from Novelupdates

Among the demons, the supreme ones are called “Great Saints.”

A young man leaves his mountain village and travels around the world. By unceasing efforts, he finally becomes a legend of the age.

- 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.”