PREVIEW

... is hand and said, "Who makes you nonsense!"

The old man is old and the old one is old, and the other one is commendable. What is this guy afraid to say?

He almost fell!

He Shen grasped him and said, "You asked first."

Qiao Shao didn't think there was anything wrong with the posture of the two holding hands, and he said, "I asked about the cost of tuition."

He Shen said: "I answer this question."

You make sense!

Qiao Shao said: "Expenses are linked ...

YOU MAY ALSO LIKE
Battle Royale of the SinnersChapter 556 - Epilogueception (10) (Lilith's Diary)
 4.8k
4.3/5(votes)
HistoricalHaremActionFantasy

Tong, a sinner who was suffering endless torment in hell because of his mistake he had done in his previous life, was giving other chance to redeem himself by the devil.

God Of Soul SystemChapter 709 (END) - I’m The Soul King (The End!!)
 2.3M
3.9/5(votes)
ComedyActionFantasyAdventure

All Things of this World, Turn to Ashes, Flowing Blade-like Flame!

The Healing Solaris ClericChapter 335: A Short Break (1)
 1.5k
3.0/5(votes)
ActionFantasy

“Kind? What’s kind about it? Taking on such quests isn’t being kind. It’s just being a pushover. A total pushover.”As the voices faded behind him, Kai glanced back at them.Me? A pushover? No way.[You have performed a good deed for an NPC in trouble.] [+1 Benevolence.]A reward given for doing a good deed?!Calculative, yet compelling enough to continue doing good deeds whether it’s healing or dealing damage.The Healing Solaris Cleric, Kai’s, journey to conquering MID Online!

THE DEATH KNELLChapter 67: War of God’s and Shadows
 22
4.5/5(votes)
FantasyActionAdventureHarem

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.”