Douluo: I Just Made Everything Up - Chapter 72: Reborn

“I can clear all your debts, but you have to substitute me in my marriage…”

When Liang Dou Kou was diagnosed with cancer, she formed a contract with Qin Zhi Ai to substitute her in the time she would be absent, including her marriage with Gu Yu Sheng.

Initially, Qin Zhi Ai suffered under the cold and harsh attitude of Gu Yu Sheng, who mistook her for Liang Dou Kou. But his heart gradually softened and he fell in love with her.

Just when he thought that he could live happily ever after with her, it is time for Qin Zhi Ai and Liang Dou Kou to revert their identities, and Qin Zhi Ai evaporated from Gu Yu Sheng’s life.

Months later, Gu Yu Sheng meets someone who possesses the gaze of Qin Zhi Ai who captured his heart…

One day a young man found a mysterious door in his grand father house and that door transported him to Tensura....welcome to the new world...all the credit for the characters and main story goes to the owners, this is just a fanfic none of the characters or the storyline belongs to me...Tensura won't be live until later in the chapters, so if you in a rush, you can quick rocks...

Yun Xiangxiang was a well-regarded celebrity in her previous life.

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.”