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... ed item of the evening. The air seemed to thicken with excitement, the collective breath of the esteemed guests held in suspense.

"Ladies and gentlemen and my fellow cultivators," Sia Lu began, her voice resonating with authority and allure, "it is time for the last and most prestigious item of tonight's auction—the Thunder Law Weapon."

She gestured gracefully, and the heavy velvet drapes parted to reveal a pedestal. Atop it rested the Thunder Law Weapon.

She continued, " ...

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She was a cute and tomboyish girl attending a prestigious national university in the 21st century. However, little did anyone know that she was actually a secret agent groomed by a certain organization since childhood.

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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.”