Starting Off Survival With A Small Treehouse - Chapter 51: Preparations Before the Event

The idiot Long Gen pretends to be a pig and eats a tiger, takes advantage of the girls in the village, travels across the countryside and forests, monopolizes the beauty and coquettishness, and achieves the legend of “Dragon Gen”. There is a widow in front of the door leaning on the door to watch, and a sister-in-law next door looking through the screen window… This book is determined to be a stallion, with the goal of pushing down and being pushed.

- Description from novelbuddy

Shen Weiyi has a younger, boy-next-door boyfriend whose allure lies in his height, long legs, and strong torso. With a wild mind and a talent for flirting, the eighteen-year-old Jiang is impulsive, fun-loving, and fickle, exhibiting both innocent and wolf-like traits at the touch of a button. Beloved by countless girls, he always thought Shen Weiyi, who would do anything at his mere call of 'sister', would forever indulge him, only to find she suddenly doesn't want him anymore.Breakups are breakups; whoever regrets it is a dog.Shen Weiyi, once red-eared and compliant to his every whim, now won't look back, leaving an eighteen-year-old Jiang's genuine liking turning into a resolute declaration of disinterest. 'Jiang,' she says, 'I date for happiness, not for extra headache.'Later, a desperate Jiang tries everything for her, getting injured in the process and lowering himself to the dust, only to see her blooming in another man's arms, which drives him to a jealous rage.Sheng Ting, the genius of the Z University, untouchable and seen by everyone as the embodiment of purity and restraint, had decided the names of their unborn children upon his first glimpse of Shen Weiyi.[Childhood friend VS Sudden love, not seeking the adoration of the whole world but asking to be your one and only exception in life.]

On his wedding day, they killed his soon-to-be wife and the vast majority of her family.He watched a drunken Interstellar Beast Master and his Beast rip apart those he knew as if they were paper.But the next day, everything was covered up.They were told that it was all an accident.No matter what he did, he was told again and again that it was just an accident. An accident with casualties that occurred while a heroic Beast Master was saving people in the line of duty and there were just a few casualties.But he was there, he saw the glee of the drunken Beast Master as he and its creature rampaged!But in Vael’nir, a world where interstellar Beast Masters were considered Guardians who protected the masses from Entropic Beasts and Vagrant Beast Masters, getting any justice or revenge for his wife and her family was going to be an impossibility.What could he, a weak human do against the terrifying Interstellar Beast Masters- some who were so powerful that they participated in wars in space and could travel to neighboring Colony Planets with their bodies alone?He only had his rage and anger as he memorized the face of the Interstellar Beast Master that destroyed everything he held.He was powerless to do anything until one day…a light fell from the skies and hit him, and he found a small six-tailed fox curled around his body when he woke up.A Beast.A Beast unlike any others he had ever heard of before.And just maybe…a possibility for revenge!—#Dark Fantasy, #Sci-fi, #Ruthless, #Beast Taming, #Cybernetic Humans…and more

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.”