Only I Can See The End - Chapter 35: The Penthouse Boss [Pt 2]

Tong, a sinner who was suffering endless torment in hell because of his mistake he had done in his previous life, was giving other chance to redeem himself by the devil.

After dying from a strange terminal illness, Ling Lan was reborn into a world 10,000 years into the future. Although she dearly wished she could just live a peaceful and uneventful life in her new healthy body, fate had other plans…

Forced to disguise herself as a boy just so she could inherit her deceased father’s premium military benefits, Ling Lan’s journey to adulthood was full of challenges. After much difficulty, she finally turned sixteen when she could drop the charade. But before she could grasp her newfound freedom to get married and start her own family, a twist of fate results in her being thrown into the Federation’s top military boys’ school.

With these twists of fate, Ling Lan had little choice but to walk further and further down a path of no return, one of cold and aloof dominance…

- 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.”

The world’s worst offense, is called Love.