My Doctor Son-in-law, Clarence - Chapter 13

1946

Peggy Carter walked to the Brooklyn Bridge and poured Captain America’s blood sample under the bridge with her own hands. “Goodbye, dear.” A woman’s voice suddenly sounded beside her, as if it had come out of nowhere. “He will come back.” At this time, Carter’s face was full of tears, and he looked at the woman in black with a black hat in his pocket very puzzled, “Ha, I’m sorry to scare you suddenly. Seeing what you said Yes, I just want to persuade you.” After finishing speaking, he looked towards the bridge and looked at the sea view in the distance. Carter, who was very vigilant, felt relieved after hearing such an explanation, wiped away his tears, and wanted to leave. “I have a friend ……” The mysterious woman suddenly said another word, interrupting Carter, which made her feel uneasy.

“I have a friend who wants me to tell you that I look forward to meeting you.” As she said that, Peggy’s uneasiness increased by three points, and she quietly touched the hidden gun.

“In the future, live well…”

“Who are you!”

The mysterious woman ignored Peggy Carter and immediately turned around. Peggy was anxious and immediately drew out her gun.

The woman took out her hand from her pocket, and there were six gemstones of different colors inlaid in her hand, clenched into a fist. The mysterious woman disappeared in front of Peggy’s eyes, but the last words “for the captain” still linger in Peggy’s ears.

Year 2008.

Daisy officially presented the full plan to the Security Council

“The world needs more heroes”

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”

[Not Pursuing a Career, Just Falling in Love]

Lin Jianzhi was a crybaby with overactive tear ducts. She would cry when nervous, cry when happy, and cry even more when sad.

One day, the senior she had secretly loved for years stood in front of her and handed her a pack of tissues.

Zhu Lishen: “Can you stop crying?”

Lin Jianzhi wanted to explain herself but couldn’t stop sobbing uncontrollably.

Zhu Lishen was going crazy: “What exactly do you want? Do you want me?”

Lin Jianzhi was stunned for a moment before bursting into loud wails.

Zhu Lishen: “!!!”

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