Trash of the Count's Family - Chapter 141Book 2: : A miracle happened in the Demon Cult (4)

In her previous lifetime, they had married for five years. He meant everything to her, but she was thrown away like an old shoe.

My surname is Wu, and everyone calls me Xiao Wu.

Listen, brother, here are some of my experiences-

Don’t listen to what it says when you fight with the dragon, just fight until it dies;

It’s a little more troublesome to beat the goblin, it’s better not to let it see you, you have to shoot the black gun;

It’s a word to engage in orcs, naked!

If the devil dares to come to trouble, he will break his horns, and he will kneel;

Okay, I’m going to fight at the bar now, I’ll write more about the introduction when I get back

- Description from novelbuddy

Recommended new book “After Rebirth, I Evade the Big Shot in Various Ways”.“Sign it and get lost!” Seven years of infatuation only exchanged for his cold few words. She signed the divorce agreement with a smile and completely disappeared from then on.Four years ago, she relied on her father's power to marry him as she wished.Three years ago, he personally sent her father to prison and ruthlessly threw a divorce agreement in front of her, while he walked away with his childhood sweetheart.When they met again, he was a high and mighty IT mogul, while she had fallen from being the mayor's daughter to an oppressed barmaid.This time, she wisely kept her distance and no longer provoked him. Only, why did he still want to ruin her prospects?“Leng Yixiu, we are already divorced!” Even a cornered rabbit will bite.“Is that so? What if I say I regret it?” He raised his eyebrows slightly and pinned her against the wall.From then on, the proud and introverted big BOSS began his long journey to pursue his wife...

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.”