MTL - Wife, You Can’t Run After Eating - Chapter 188 Xianggong are not calm

Mira is determined to be a botanist—no matter how dangerous or violent it may become. Mira made two requests upon entering the multiverse: a botany class to further her research and to be dropped off in an isolated forest far from the violent god-rearing system BS going on. She was granted both—but not in the way she expected. The system abandoned her in a hellishly dangerous forest—where she earned a rare class that excelled at killing things.

Laviore Bailey—the ‘fake saintess’ who banished the innocent princess and stirred up bad blood to wage war.

She’s the villainess with a façade of a saintess.

“I love you. So just shut your mouth and die. Okay?”

But the moment her trusted lover chose her as a sacrifice to the demon, and she realized her father was behind the plan, she killed herself by swallowing poison.

It hurt. It was so painful that she could not even scream. But it was fine. Because she knew this was not the end.

“I will save you this time.”

Then, she came back for her second life. She was determined to rescue those who were unlucky because of her and restored her life back.

“You do whatever you want for the man in your dream.”

Demian said with a rough smile.

“I’ll also protect you the way I want to.”

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.”

Twenty years ago, she was taken in as the Lin family’s young heiress through a twist of fate. But mistakes would eventually be corrected one day. When the real daughter of the family returned and her foster parents begged her to stay, she obliged. Unbeknownst to her, this was actually a scheme disguised as familial affection. They only kept her around to squeeze her dry of all her value!