MTL - Eighteen Years Old - Chapter 171

A one-night stand was all she wanted. A one-night stand was not his style. Still, they ended up together in a night of passion. No names, no feelings, and no complications.

They thought that their unexpected encounter was an isolated incident. However, fate had something else in mind.

As they found each other, back in each other’s arms. Not in a passionate embrace, but with a contract that would bind them for a long time. An agreement they were both bond to honor.

Daniella Hamilton was an heiress who wanted nothing to do with her father and her inheritance. She pursued her career to become a lawyer for the masses who could not defend themselves from the injustice in their current judicial system.

Alexander Princeton, as the name suggested, was a possible heir, next in line to his father, the Duke of the Blackstone House. He also wanted nothing to do with the title or the prestige of the dying Royal Empire. To him, wealth was the real power.

Would their agreement lead them to the fulfillment of their dreams or would it end up in a disastrous union?

After being hit by a car, Oliver wakes up only to find himself reincarnated as the 4th young master in one of the most powerful clans in the world. However, just after his birth, he is declared to be useless by his mother.Devastated, he later realizes that he has been born into the world of a novel that he used to read. This world is plagued by war between exorcists and demons, where only the strong survive while the weak are devoured.In such a cruel world where death is only a mile away, he, born without talent, is expected to only suffer his whole life until he hears it...[Ding! Conditions met. Binding System has been activated.]A system that guarantees a 10x reward...[Ding! Target has awakened one of the 4 special eyes!][Obtaining 10 times the reward....][Host has awakened the...]It is not only a matter of time before he can reach the top of the world and live comfortably!

Two years after the breakup, he developed misogyny. Being too close to a woman would make him nauseous and vomit.Mo Chen: Why are there ugly women everywhere?The Brothers: ???Qiao Ruoxin suddenly returned, begging for reconciliation and affection.Mo Chen: You say breakup and we break up, you say reconcile and we reconcile? Who do you think you are!She kissed him forcefully, and Mo Chen instantly became tame, like a docile beast.The Brothers: ??? What happened to your misogyny? And what's with that look of enjoyment?Mo Chen: Get out! You're getting a free show and still have so much to say!Qiao Ruoxin: Brothers, help me pursue Mo Chen. After I succeed, each of you gets a billion, and he's paying.The Brothers: ??? You two really are a pair of extraordinary heroes!Mo Chen: You guys created a group chat behind my back?People hurriedly left the group chat......“Little Ghost, Brother is quite easy to coax, just be patient.”A beautiful and badass sweetheart X an abnormally paranoid and irritable CEO

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.”