The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent - Chapter 421

The youngest Wiseman of the continent, Chu Tian, has traveled 30,000 years back in time to the age of antiquity due to an accident.

In wealthy circles, Meng Chuyuan was known to be an abandoned wife. Her husband was rarely home, and both her younger brother-in-law and mother-in-law have terrible tempers.

Others mocked her for living an undignified life, but only Meng Chuyuan knew how comfortable and free she was.

She had endless money to spend and didn’t have to have children.

However, one day, her brother-in-law, who was a popular figure in the entertainment industry, dragged her to a rural reality show.

Before the show started, Meng Chuyuan, as part of the control group, ranked first on the list of unfortunate marriages and cold relations with her in-laws!

After the show aired, Meng Chuyuan’s radiant appearance completely overshadowed the negative publicity!

The netizen’s focus began to change.

Abandoned by a wealthy family? With that 40-carat diamond ring, anyone would want to be in her shoes!

Discord between in-laws? Please! They were so in sync with their playful banter. They acted like real siblings!

Mother-in-law and daughter-in-law conflicts?

During the family day event, Meng Chuyuan’s mother-in-law was practically her number one fan!

Unhappy marriage? Her husband’s possessiveness practically overflowed from the screen.

If they were a so-called fake couple, netizens would live stream themselves eating their shoes!

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Li Zhizhi was taken back to the capital at the age of fifteen to recognize her ancestral roots. As the true eldest daughter of the Li family, she should have been cherished. However, everyone preferred Li Suwan, who was knowledgeable, polite, and clever. As for Li Zhizhi, she grew up in a remote and impoverished village, ignorant of the ways of the world, and her name even carried a sense of disdain.

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.”