The Devious First-Daughter - Chapter 105 Concubine Ma Admits Her Error and Asks for Punishment While Kneeling at the Door

When a person dies, they either die light as a feather (aka unimportant) or heavy as Mt. Tai (aka very important).

Somewhere in the wilderness. As soon as Ruan Youqing cleared up the gangsters, he turned around and saw Mr. Shoufu who came behind him. Throwing away the meteor hammer he picked up casually, Ruan Youqing fell into his arms by coincidence.

Ruan Youqing looked shy: “If Master Shoufu hadn’t arrived in time, you Qing would have been in trouble.”

Ignoring the screams and wailing next to his ears, Master Shoufu who did nothing stretched out his hand to wipe off the blood on the girl’s face, Then he said without changing his face: “The world is getting worse, people’s hearts are not old. Miss Ruan still has to be careful in the future, after all…you are too weak.”

The gangsters: “…???”

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”

The world froze.Literally froze. The chattering students, the falling cherry blossoms outside the window, even the dust motes in the air – all suspended in perfect stillness.“Oh wonderful hero,” a melodious voice echoed through the room. “Your world faces a terrible crisis, and you have been chosen to—”“No,” he said flatly.A pause. Then a shimmer of golden light coalesced into the form of a beautiful woman in flowing robes. She blinked at him. “I... what?”“I said no. I'm not interested in whatever quest or destiny you're selling. Pick someone else.”The goddess's perfect features creased in confusion. “But... but you've been chosen! The prophecy speaks of a warrior with a fierce spirit, one who—”“Lady, I don't care about your prophecy. I've got enough problems here without adding some fantasy world's issues to the mix. Now un-freeze time and leave me alone.”“You don't understand,” she pressed. “Our world is being ravaged by the Demon King's armies! Millions will die without—”