The Primordial Record - Chapter 2114: A Piece of Truth (3)

When he did not know her true identity, he treated her very badly, he disliked her too much, she was not elegant enough, she was in the way...Only later did he realize that the woman was his legal wife! He repented, tried to recover her feelings, but she was determined to divorce him.

Drunk, I lie on the lap of a beauty; awake, I command the power of the world.From being unknown to dominating the world, when Lin Fan looks back on the path he has traveled, it is all laid out by beautiful women!

Morn transmigrates into a fantasy world where demons run rampant, vampire families stand tall in the darkness all year round, werewolves that are preparing for something in the darkness, and angels who occasionally descend into the human world.

As a cardinal of the Orthodox Church, Morn had been bound to the nine-to-five system after he arrives in this world. As long as he’s at work, he can obtain a large number of rewards by checking in.

Therefore, having been in the ten years of the Orthodox Church, he becomes an invincible existence. Although he is the strongest in the Orthodox Church, he has one flaw—he never works overtime.

Your Holiness, Cardinal Morn personally went to the Dark Forest and killed all the dark cat demons.

Your Holiness, Cardinal Morn just returned from the Bloodthirsty Demon Abyss with the head of the Bloodthirsty Demonic Dragon

Your Holiness, this is bad! Dracula I brought his army of vampires here to take revenge.

Pope: “Quick, get Cardinal Morn.

B-but Cardinal Morn has knocked off. He has a rule that he works 9-to-5. He never works overtime

Pope: We’re doomed. Our Orthodox Church’s 300-year history shall end here.If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible. Thanks!

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.”