Rebirth of the Strongest Empress - Chapter 805: Consequence of Your Own Sin (3)

Lin Wanwan is a pitiful mentally-disabled girl. Not only does she suffer abuse from her stepmother, her stepmother even attempts to use her as a sexual commodity to pleasure others. Eventually, the poor Wanwan dies from an overdose…

From the depths of a deep and blissful slumber, Chu Yu awoke to the vague sense of someone beside her. Among four of five men that she saw sleeping around her when she awoke, one in particular, caught her eye.'Who is he?'With his unrivaled elegance and the air of supremacy around him, he gazed upon the princess and asked, “What's wrong, Princess? Did you have a nightmare?”And with that, an uncontrollable chill rose up her spine that made her shiver despite the warmth of the room.Is it a joke? Or is it destiny?

Li Quangqing traversed to the cultivation world and became a family fisherman, starting with twenty acres of fish ponds.Unexpectedly, every time spiritual fish were harvested, a reward orb could be obtained.[Harvested one adult big green fish, received a lower-grade water arrow talisman!][Harvested one adult iron bone crab, received the “Gengjin Sword Technique”!][Harvested one adult longevity turtle, received the “Gui Sui Shou” pill, prolonging life by twenty years!]...Since then, Li Quangqing watched the tides rise and fall in the world, the wind and clouds changing, wanting only to raise fish and become immortal peacefully.Until thousands of years later, a certain Water Virtue True Immortal appeared out of nowhere, shaking the immortal realm, capable of covering the sky with one hand.“Since the Milky Way is also a river, it's okay for me to use it for fish farming, right?”

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.”