MTL - Valkyrie of the Marvel Universe - Chapter 305 Destroy it! Sovereign star!

Growing up in the slums, deprived of freedom, being enslaved by his parents and thugs, all Lucifer wanted was a life of freedom, a life that he could do whaver he wanted, not being ordered by anyone.And then luck came to Lucifer when he awakened the system, and even luckier was that he was able to raise his Destiny Rank to Unpredictable.But in return...he was turned into Freedom's Most Loyal Slave

Drizzles in the wind, a small shop with pennants, and flower-like vintners.

Xinfeng’s fine wine, tenderly-fresh sunflowers shoots, and superb delicacies.

Lin Yan, Shaoyin of Jingzhao laid his eyes on the restaurant’s owner who has skin as fair as snow and beautiful apricot eyes.

It was pitiful and pathetic for a young lady from high-society to fall into the situation of selling wine…

Yet Shen Shaoguang thought: With wines and delicacies, and being able to see handsome young lads pass by…Life is treating her well enough!

Lin Yan’s expression was heavy, these young lads dress up fancily every day, showing off themselves and playing boring games like rooster fights and dog races…It’s time to straighten them out!

- Description from Novelupdates

When he did not know her true identity, he treated her very badly, he disliked her too much, she was not elegant enough, she was in the way...Only later did he realize that the woman was his legal wife! He repented, tried to recover her feelings, but she was determined to divorce him.

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.”