MTL - Guide to Raising a Supporting Male Lead - Chapter 32

I will go forward step by step, until one day I surpass you, Dad! !!

Zhao Gang, who has graduated from the World Hunter School, returns to the city. He inspires his own country and surpasses his father who is already at the top of the world.

- Description from Uukanshu

“Do you love...me?” My eyes stung as I asked my so-called husband.“No,” he said quietly. “I don't love you. I don't need to love you. I just need to take care of you as I promised your father before he died.”My world crumbled down on me.His words hit me like a physical blow. I staggered back, the world spinning around me. “S-So that's it? This whole time, you've been with me out of some sense of duty?”Elijah looked away, unable to meet my gaze. “Your father asked me to look after you, to make sure you were happy and safe. That's what I've been trying to do.”“Fine then. Let's get a divorce!” I announced, loud and clear.___Ash always believed he could make his cold and vicious hubby fall in love with him.However, after three years of marriage, Ash received only betrayal from Elijah. Elijah never loved him and was only with Ash because he promised Ash's father that he would take care of him after his death. Ash, heartbroken and sorrowful, decided to quit his marriage.However, when he handed Elijah the divorce papers, he ripped them pieces and pushed Ash against the wall.“You have lost your mind if you think I will ever divorce you.” Elijah glared, but Ash was unaffected by his rage. However, once Ash had left him for good, Elijah realised how deeply he loved him, and not just because of his responsibility to Ash. So he resolved to go after Ash and bring him back.Amidst this, he came to know that Ash was the one who caused the accident four years ago in which Elijah lost both of his parents. He had investigated this case for years but now that he found out it was Ash, he was devastated.“Come back before I lose my mind and do something you will regret.”But can an emotionless and frigid man who has never learned to express affection or feelings approach the love of his life while he conflicted between taking his revenge and loving Ash?

To exact revenge on her fiance who cheated on her, Xing Shu plotted against her fiance’s uncle, Cheng Lang. “Was my nephew unable to please you?”

On a large, messy bed, Cheng Lang pinched Xing Shu’s chin. The black Buddhist bracelet around his wrist swayed from side to side. Everyone said Cheng Lang was a religious man who stayed away from women.

However, after sleeping with him for a night, Xing Shu expressed how it was actually easy to manipulate him. She only needed to say sweet things to him in a soft, gentle voice, and he’d give her anything she wanted.

“Mr. Cheng is only putting on a show with Xing Shu. He’ll dump her very soon!”

“Xing Shu is a shameless woman. Mr. Cheng would never fall for someone with ulterior motives like her!”

Everyone in Jing City waited for her to make a fool of herself, but nobody knew how Cheng Lang pinned her against the bed at night. “Xing Shu, mention getting a divorce again if you dare.”

Ever since then, Cheng Lang, a man who once belonged on the altar, was brought down by Xing Shu. He experienced what it felt like to be in a relationship like a normal person, and he found joy in it.

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.”