Naruto: Uchiha's Unserious Saga - Chapter 7: Pride is not affected by time

Eighty years ago, Qi Shijiang was a crosstalk artist who was a good performer.

Eighty years later, he borrowed a body to resurrect himself in the entertainment circle.

Despite living again, it’s really not easy to reenter the old profession.

As far as this face is concerned, no one believes that he is talking about crosstalk. No one believes that he does not rely on his face to eat.

– What is the use of this magnificent beauty? ?

- Description from Novelupdates

No one knows who is she, how does she look and where does she live but they only know that she is the apple of the Rao family, born with beauty and a great mind.

After suffering from a cruel incident when she was five, she was chased by nightmares every night and then was forced to leave her country to protect herself. After staying abroad for twelve long years, she finally decided to return to her country and face the nightmare courageously but to her surprise, when she returned she found about her late grandmother's promise…and that was to marry her to the heir of Mu family….Mu Jun.

What kind of person he is? She has no idea.

Mu Jun, the only grandson of Elder Mu, lost his mother at the age of ten. Because of his cunning and greedy stepmother, he was forced to distance himself from his father and grandfather.

To the world, he was the heir of the Mu family but he had another identity in the underworld and that was one of the five pillars of the Garuda.

What kind of person he is?

Other than his identity, Sia was not aware of anything about him but as obedient as she was, she decided to disguise herself and enter his life to know more about to him and fulfill her late grandmothers wish.

From school life to love life, from being crime partners to investigators will they have a smooth road? Will Mu Jun and Sia be able to find out about the secret of their life and purpose of marriage? To know more about how the two love birds will end up, follow up the story…

After hesitating for a while, she asked: “Darling, don’t you like kids?”

“No I don’t” he replied without any hesitation

Humming, she asked in another way “Darling, do you like daughter?”

Closing the file, he looked at her and said “Okay…let’s make one”

After a few years, he frowned deeply and said “I won't give up. I want a daughter….let’s make one”

“.…” ‘are you sure? We already have three sons’

“I have to squander; otherwise, won’t it be a waste of my parent’s talent at earning money?” Hong Dali answers a reporter’s question matter-of-factly.

Just after the interview ends, Hong Dali opens the Great Prodigal System’s interface and looks at the various good stuff displayed in it. Stroking his chin, he mumbles to himself, “I just need to squander 200 billion yuan more to exchange for the blueprint of the core technology, Engine Destruction, found in the strongest humanoid mecha weapon, Neo Granzon. Looks like I’ll have to work harder!”

“I want to splurge! I want to squander!”

- 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.”