She Lost Memory Before the Divorce - Chapter 123 - 0: Spectacular Counterkill! (1)

Chu Hao was reborn in another world. With the memory of his past life, he embarked on a journey to conquer the heavens and the worlds, and finally became the Eternal Heavenly Emperor.[Rebirth], [Exploration], [Battle]

After traversing through time, Li Xuan was delighted to have become the second son of Earl Chengyi's mansion, as well as a proud warrior of Liudao Fumo. However, just ten days into his privileged life, he faced fierce female supervisors, terrifying ghost-girls, and spiteful demonesses one after another.Amidst this whirlpool of challenges, Li Xuan claimed he didn't feel a bit panicked. A few years later, standing above the Yangtze River, he swung his sword, and with that, thousands of miles of landscapes were instantly frozen.Where will the demoness escape to? Take my sword!

After his wife suddenly rose to fame on a variety show and asked for a divorce, Chen Yu left with his daughter with nothing but the clothes on their backs.At the moment he received the divorce certificate,“Congratulations, Host, for unlocking the Divorce Achievement and activating the Perfect Counterattack Life System.”Chen Yu made his way from catering to entertainment, medicine, and the financial industry before venturing into the field of technology.When his ex-wife Fang Yuan came to see their daughter, intending to mock Chen Yu, she was stunned by the scene before her!All those entertainment industry big shots she had tried so hard to cozy up to were now revolving around Chen Yu.Regretful, Fang Yuan wanted to reconcile with Chen Yu, but then she discovered their daughter's teacher Tong Ya...

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.”