The Strongest War God - Chapter 1939: Becoming Brothers

I was a failed experiment

She was once an heiress, but later her family went bankrupt, and her fiancé betrayed her. Besides, she had to bear the expensive medical expenses of her brother. Therefore, to regain everything, she decidedly married her ex's cousin in a deal. Initially, he was very aloof and didn't care about women at all, but he gradually fell in love with her, protecting her and supporting her...

There are five skills in Taoism: That is, spiritual practice, medical skills, numerology, anthroposcopy , and divination.

As a Taoist doctor, Zhou Jinyuan can tell fortune and save lives.

However, when a doctor can draw talismans and do alchemy, at the same time he is a very young… He has to prove himself is not a liar!

…

Zhou Jinyuan: Seeing a doctor? Wait for me to finish this talisman.

Patient (panic face): ? ? I’m sorry that I disturbed you.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”