MTL - My Family Really Has A Goldmine - Chapter 52 Stuart Weitzman

Rumor has it that the fourth Wangye in Xuan Lang Empire was handsome and couldn’t be compared to anyone else. He held impressive contributions, gaining the favor of the Emperor. No one else had that honor within the present royal court.

Rumor has it that the fourth Wangye’s methods were cruel and murdered people within the blink of an eye, leading people to be scared out of their wits!

Rumor has it that the fourth Wangye was cold-hearted, placing no one in his eyes.

However, the truth was —

“No good. Fourth Wangye, the Firefox and the nineteenth Wangye are in a fight and ruined the library collections!”

“No harm, just put things back in order, then it’s fine!”

“Not good. Fourth Wangye, the Firefox secretly ate the millennium Seven Colors Fruit that the Emperor had rewarded!”

“No harm, as long as it likes to eat it then it’s fine!”

Everyone within the fourth WangFu knew that the Firefox was their Wangye’s treasure.

However, when the Firefox transformed into a person—

Heaven ah! Look at the pair of lily-white hands. Su JiuJiu was completely stunned and worried. Didn’t she cross over as a fox? How come she had transformed back into a person now?! Then, is she a person or a transvestite?!

- Description from Novelupdates

Tian Han was a young boy who admired immortals. His dream had always been to become like them—flying on swords, using spells. But he was just an ordinary village boy, and he didn't have much of a chance for that. So, he always read books about immortals, and his admiration for them grew more and more every day. One day, he heard that he had a chance to become an immortal.“You can become immortal.”This was the sentence where his adventure began. Yes, he could become an immortal. And so, his journey started, and he found himself in the ruthless world of immortals.

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.”