MTL - Fantasy System - Chapter 532 Which kind of death do you like?

He Youran grew up in the countryside. Her father did not love her, her stepmother did not love her, and her grandmother was very annoyed with her.

When she was 18, her father gave her away to the handicapped Lu Qingzhuo to cancel out his bad luck.

On the first day she moved into the Lu family, she fell to the ground and almost broke Lu Qingzhuo’s manhood.

On the fifth day after she moved into the Lu family, she ruined Lu Qingzhuo’s famous painting worth ten million with a cup of coffee.

On the 20th day after she moved into the Lu family, she burned down the kitchen.

Lu Qingzhuo, who could not move easily, nearly choked to death from the smoke.

He Youran, “I’m really sorry. As compensation, let me treat your leg, okay?”

Lu Qingzhuo, “…Is this country bumpkin wife of his dumb?”

The Lu family heard the news and happily waited for the Lu family to kick Youran out of the family, only to find out that things did not progress the same way they expected them to be.

The best hospital in Imperial Capital, “Professor He is the best surgical professor our hospital ever has.”

The number one school in the world, “He Youran is the most excellent student our school has ever produced in a century.”

Hua Country’s virology research base, “Professor He is our department’s highest executive officer.”

The most sought-after singer in the entertainment circle, “Allow me to introduce He Youran to everyone. She’s my number one composer, Lan Zhao.”

Everyone who knew He Youran nearly went mad.

A certain handicapped man posted on Weibo: [@heyouran, baby, when are we registering our marriage?]

He Youran: [Huh? Didn’t we agree that our marriage is canceled?] The Lu family, “...”

How did the world transform so rapidly suddenly?

Setting: Female lead: Seemingly innocent and scatterbrained, but truly possessed impressive powers.

She was the creme de la creme in many fields. Male lead: Silent, reticent, loyal, and sincere.

What will you do when the gods turn Earth into their playground? Run, hide, and hope for the best? What if it isn’t an option? What if you’re the thing they want to play with? What if they want you to play for their entertainment?That is what the humans had to go through when the gods forced an awakening upon them. Pick classes, slay monsters, and survive being the god’s pet. Surviving an apocalypse can be fun, but a divine apocalypse? It will be fun… but only for the gods. For the rest, it is a test for survival.Maybe not for everyone. What if someone views it as an opportunity to take revenge on everyone who had betrayed him? What if someone doesn’t care about being used by the gods as long as he can use them for his revenge?That’s what Kang YuWon sets out to achieve once calamity strikes. Revenge on everyone, including his family, and even the gods, if they ever cross paths.

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.”

When a person dies, they either die light as a feather (aka unimportant) or heavy as Mt. Tai (aka very important).