Unsealing Emptiness - Chapter 339

When I entered for the Film Academy, the examiner arranged a crying scene for me. I pinched my thighs blue but still no tears came out, but now, oh.

Chen You held a cigarette with his mouth, give me ten seconds, I can cry like a dog, a dead dog.

444: Film Emperor, it’s time to go to the next set.

- Description from Novelupdates

Yoon Eunah was engaged with Lee Young-soo by their parents. But the marriage didn’t go as it was planned.Faced with Eunah’s absence. Eunbi, her younger sister ended up marrying Young-soo against her will to save her parents pride and self-esteem.Neither her’s nor his parents came up with a plan of involving Eunbi and Young-soo into the marriage. It was full and fully planned by Young-soo, he emotionally advice Eunbi by using her family weakness as his strength to get her acceptance to marry him.Eunbi was suspicious of Young-soo’s plans for marrying her whether, did he married her for revenge? (or) did he married her for her wealth? What will happen when Eunbi finds out the real reasons why Young-soo has married her, will she forgive and accept him as her husband and lead a happy life?

Xiao Qingrong had no mother and no father. With his own ability, he climbed to the peak of life, then encountered a system who could shuttle him across time and space. “Do you want to become a male god?”

He turned into a 17-year old, weak chicken with two years left in prison, Xiao Qingrong coldly interrogated the system. The system, playing dead, threw a powerful pill.

#In short, this Male God always threatens his Super Male God System#

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.”