Rebirth: How A Loser Became A Prince Charming - Chapter 57: The Photo Exhibition

Cheng Mingyi was a little lonely throughout his life.

He only brought trouble for the brother who he grew up with and who always had his back. Through fate, due to an accident he became a second generation rich heir, Tan Feiyang. He thought, this time he could repay his Fifth brother.

Jian Ningzhe, became a first class actor with third rated reputation. One day, the infamous Tan Feiyang gave him an olive branch…

Jian Ningzhe refused to accept the hidden meaning behind it. Tan Feiyang “…Did he just ignore my present for him?”

- Description from Novelupdates

Above the firmament, a giant Kun, stretching thousands of meters long, flew over the city, ignoring the barrage of missiles.In Australia, an apocalyptic serpent, thousands of meters long, destroyed cities and devoured millions, leaving slowly after the detonation of several nuclear bombs.In this perilous world, Chen Chu, who unexpectedly acquired the avatar of a six-horned salamander, felt somewhat bewildered.What could a palm-sized salamander do? Record videos to gain traffic? Catch shrimps in a creek? Or... evolve into a colossal beast?A six-horned salamander, also known as the six-horned dragon, with the ability of infinite evolution, was gradually evolving into a mythical apocalyptic beast.Its body length extended to hundreds, thousands, and even tens of thousands of meters...And with the characteristic of synchronized enhancement, Chen Chu's own body also grew stronger, with increasing power and speed, and even...

Hyperthymesia. Those with this condition can remember every detail of their lives from something as significant as the world’s turning point to something as small and as insignificant as a minor fleeting thought. They cannot forget and their thirst for knowledge allows them to be considered genius in some senses.

Legend has it that Ji Yushi was this kind of genius.

In addition, it was said that he was gay and very beautiful.

As soon as the news that he was going to support Tianqiong’s seventh squad broke out, it sent everyone buzzing.

Everyone knew that the captain of the seventh squad, Song Qinglan, was a hoodlum and deeply homophobic.

He not only relied on his super-powerful abilities to become the dark horse on the battlefield in less than two years, but he also hates it when those at the top forces a flower vase* into his squad.

Sure enough, Song Qinglan announced in front of everyone, “Useful? Us brothers are going out there working ourselves to the bone, we don’t need a little genius who can only speedread quantum waves!”

Later.

The squad was forced into a dire situation during their mission.

That beautiful little genius calmly continued, every gunfire hitting the mark, his fighting power peaking.

Song Qinglan begged in front of everyone, “Adviser Ji, stay.”

In the end, he added, “I’ll work myself to the bone for you.”

*****

Ji Yushi had a secret.

He would often be awake at night, suffering from memory overload and recurring nightmares.

There was only one thing that could let him fall asleep peacefully.

And that was Song Qinglan.

*Flower vase: Someone who only looks pretty but can’t amount to much

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.”