MTL - Civilization of Azeroth: Start the Great Pyramid - Chapter 307 Energy Business in Dalaran

A noisy little family, a cheerful group of classmates, and a boy, born on the first year of the lunar calendar living a never changing life. Then one day he notices a girl in his class shrouded in mystery. Her name is Makina. However, the boy just can’t seem to bring himself to talk to Makina. Then one day, before the first lunar calendar month, another mysterious beauty appears. Her name is Rushia, and as she leans in as if she is going to kiss him, she tells him about a mysterious power hidden inside him called the “Snake Eyes.”

My Beautiful Teacher tells the story of a university graduate Qin Chao who can’t seem to find a job and is in a downward spiral in his life. Then one night as he walks home from another failed job interview, a vase hits his head, making him get possessed by an old and powerful evil spirit sealed in that vase and following another incidents, inadvertently saved a mysterious university teacher Su Ji, thereby opening his path to cultivation, he also manages to get a job as a security guard at Guangyuan School. A series of adventures then took place as he deals with all kinds of supernatural beings.

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.”