The Wealthy Psychic Lady: 99 Stolen Kisses - Chapter 1501 - Great to Have You (61)

Ding! Congratulations, received 7 billion red envelopes!

Ding! Congratulations, you have received 50 million yuan.

Ding! Congratulations, you have won a Lamborghini Daniel.

Ding! Congratulations, you have obtained 51% of the shares of a listed company.

Ding! Congratulations, you have obtained a first-grade building from Tomson.

Ding! Congratulations, get the skill fighting king.

Ding! Congratulations, you have acquired the skill Tian Lai Singing Voice.

…… ……

Lin Fan: 7 billion red envelopes? When should I order?

Street reporter: How long can you earn 1 million?

Lin Fan:…

Street reporter: Why do you keep blinking?

Lin Fan: Didn’t you ask me how long it takes to earn 1 million?

PS: Welcome to read my book “Super Red Envelope Fairy Group” and “The Heavens Red Envelope Chat Group”.

Senior high school student Dugu Hong was logical autistic and had a very high IQ. Despite his impressive IQ, he was never taken seriously by his teachers or schoolmates. While playing a recently released eastern Wuxia online game called Jiang Hu, three vicious classmates trapped Dugu into a mountain cave in the game with no hope of escape unless he deleted his account and re-register it. Not succumbing to their demands, Dugu decided to stay in the cave and explore the game system, which benefited him greatly. His persistence to obtain massive internal strength aided him in finding a superior way to improve himself, and thus opened the function of inner observation of the main and collateral channels. Meanwhile, in the real world, he discovered he had supernatural powers when he tried to save the girl he secretly loved who had caught the eye of a gangster on the suburban railway.

Gripes have their origins and debts have their creditors. We haven’t crossed each other in days past or present, nor formed any grudges. I am but duty-bound to carry this out, so apologies in advance!

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.”