The Beautiful Time With You - Chapter 979 - On the first day of married life, take the blame for your wife first (1)

Wen Xuxu is a tenacious, talented, smart and brave woman who was fostered by the Yan family at the age of four when she lost both her parents.

Waking from his sleep, Yue Feng found himself the owner of a fishing gear store on the brink of bankruptcy, and his time travel had landed him a rather “awkward” career as well as a system to assist him,From then on, the small town had a fishing gear store that wasn’t large in scale but had quite the reputation,With the blessing of the system (cheat), Yue Feng started livestreaming and playing the internet celebrity game to great success.Traditional fishing? Yue Feng played with the Seven-star float in the weed beds so divinely.Sitting platform fishing? He was the contestant who ascended to the rank of Special Level Competitive Fishing Master at the speed of light.Lure fishing? To him, catching a kilogram-class tarpon was just a beginner's move, and even meter-long silver dragons were nothing more than a dish on the table. Dream Fish Species were like picking things out of his pocket.Deep-sea fishing? He held the world record for the heaviest single-tail bluefin spearfish.There aren’t many sports in this world that can make a weathered adult as happy as a child, and fishing is definitely one of them. Let us witness the rise of a fishing god who achieved the pinnacle by fishing (cheating)!

This is the story of a crazy lich who possesses an internal game system and brings catastrophe to the entire world.

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.”