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... e us who joined the army, but I haven't heard of anyone who can be promoted to an officer."

Amidst the discussions, Bram returned to the slums of the royal capital, accompanied by Mikkel. Since he chose to win over, of course he must do good things to the end.

The moment he set foot in the slums, Mikil, who was born in a noble family, couldn't help frowning.

Dirty, messy, poor, this is his first impression of the slums. It is hard to imagine that anyone would like to live in ...

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In a world devastated by an unforgiving apocalypse, Qing Xia struggles against a life filled with despair. Surrounded by the suffocating remnants of society—polluted air, barren land, and the haunted expressions of humanity—he often envies those who have found peace in death, escaping the relentless suffering of existence. Yet, the memory of his family's sacrifice fuels his determination to endure, making him one of the last survivors in a landscape of desolation.But fate has other plans. During a routine mission, Qing Xia’s life abruptly ends, or so he believes. To his shock, he awakens reborn as an idol on the brink of obscurity, a mere shadow in a vibrant world. Eager for a second chance, he seeks solace in a newfound identity, yearning for a life filled with simple pleasures.However, tranquility slips through his fingers as he is thrust into an unexpected chaos—a variety show that pulls him into the heart of danger, where secret agents, ruthless hitmen, and shadowy figures lurk. With every step, the weight of his dreams collides with a reality he never wished to face. As he grapples with relentless uncertainty, Sian realizes that the struggle for peace may lead him deeper into turmoil. In this haunting journey, can he carve out a destiny in a world that seems determined to tear him apart? The winds of fate do not blow as one wishes, and with shadows closing in, every moment counts.----------------------------Black box:Someone: “Darling, help me deal with these people.”Sian: “Stay away from me. I have nothing to do with you or them.”Someone, with fake tears: “Darling, I’m hurt. Come kiss me here, and the pain will go away.”Sian, holding a military knife: “Does it hurt there? How about I just cut it off for you?”Someone, stripping Sian’s clothes: “Darling, you look so beautiful when you’re angry. I can’t take it anymore.”Sian: “Go to hell! Ah—ahh! Stop it—stop! That hurts! Quit biting me, you damn dog!”

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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.”