The Great General: Wan Heian - Chapter 5: THE CHEMISTRY

This is the story of a modern sailor who was accidentally reborn as a soldier of the Brazilian Expeditionary Force, and finally became the largest plutocratic family in Brazil by virtue of his foresight.

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As disaster was about to strike, a group of survivors transmigrated into a desolated world and were challenged to a game of survival. From terrifying acid rains, to endless natural disasters, the heavens burn while the earth scorches, radiation is rampant, and nobody is spared from the dangers of this hellscape. The only way one survives is by building a shelter and slowly upgrading it in hopes of surviving another day.

The prostitute of the Feng family was actually reduced to living in a haunted house.

At first, everyone thought that she would cry, make trouble, and hang herself, but she was quiet every day, without making noise, and set up a fortune-telling stall to earn living expenses.

A few months later, everyone in the Feng family invited her back.

She smiled and shook her head. Going back to the Feng family, there are no female ghosts to do housework.

Behind him, Lord Wei, who is the master of the city, aggressively embraced his fiancée in his arms, “My wife is timid, don’t scare her.”

All the ghosts who were caught, “Are you talking nonsense?”

Just when everyone was waiting for Master Wei to cancel his marriage with his nominal fiancée, they actually waited for the news of their engagement.

Outside the nickname, Master Wei married Miss Feng’s family.

Impossible, Mr. Wei is ascetic, mysterious and low-key, never letting women come within one meter of him.

Master Wei was full of smiles, “Nian Nian, where do you want to go to catch ghosts tonight?”

- 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.”