MTL - I’m the City Lord of the Last Days - Chapter 51

Lu Mingshu had never believed in fate.

She hadn’t believed in it when her father had remarried and caused her family to break into pieces, nor had she believed in it when she’d been thrown into a valley to perish.

She hadn’t believed in it when she didn’t have any resources to cultivate with, nor had she believed in it when she’d been condemned by everyone.

She climbed up little by little from dust, while her reign soared into the sky, which caused the world to look on in fear!

If justice doesn’t come, I’ll personally obtain it.

If fate disregards me, I‘ll open up a way to survive.

No matter what fate throws at me, I will surely become a phoenix!

“What a ruthless woman. I’m willing to risk my life and limbs for you, willing to be calculative for you – I’m even willing to be an enemy of the entire world for you. Aren’t you moved even a little?”

“That’s right, since I‘m such a ruthless woman, what exactly is it that you like about me?”

- Description from Novelupdates

The Overlord, Kang Chul-In. The man who was so strong that he had to be defeated. Having lost, he must now go back in time to take up the challenge of becoming The Emperor in the Continent of Pangaea. Will Kang Chul-In be able to overcome the 9 other Overlords in order to grasp the Continent of Pangaea within his hands?

It is eight or nine years for her to meet her first love again. In the gas station of highway, she sees him walking from the grocery store. She looks at him, not believing what she sees and asks, ‘Do you still remember me?’ He looks at her, with a bottle of mineral water in his hand, and says peacefully, ‘Yes, even if you became ashes.

- 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.”