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... eed!”

A centurion couldn’t help but remind him, “Sir, the weather is hot today. We should prevent the soldiers from marching excessively and risking heatstroke!”

Furius glared at him and cunningly argued, “Precisely because it’s hot, we need to speed up and try to reach Naples as soon as possible. By then, I will strive to have the people of Naples provide the soldiers with Vesuvian wine to quench their thirst.”

Furius had his subordinates spread his explanation, and the ...

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It was the Great Age of Pirates, surging forward with their thousand sails unfurled.

One young man from earth ate the Goro Goro no Mi and joined the Marine.

Justice vs Evil, Freedom vs Tyranny, the colliding waves between them would never cease.

But all of this…..”I couldn’t care less about!!”

At the summit of the war, surrounded by ten thousand people, Ron held a thunder halberd in hand and walked forward with strong steps.

Rivals meet face to face, but only one could become the King.

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RomanceDramaSlice Of Life

To care for her ailing sweetheart, college student Lu Chenchen gave up her white-collar office job and chose the higher-paying caretaker profession instead. Going around in circles, she ended up at the Mao family’s home.

The Mao family background was complicated. Old Madam Mao was not her son Yanning’s birth mom, but his young aunt. His wife was Old Madam Mao’s first love’s daughter, spoiled and pampered. Despite over ten years of marriage, husband and wife were distant.

To repay Old Madam Mao’s kindness in raising him, and for the sake of his three children, Mao Yanning endured again and again – not just a loveless but outright destructive marriage.

Lu Chenchen walked on eggshells among these people – carefully serving young and old, currying favor with the lady of the house without offending the man of the house, while also worrying about his sweetheart’s illness and missing “his” elders and children back home. Her heart was like a cookie flattened between the pages of life, living a difficult and cautious existence.

However, as the saying goes, “You reap what you sow.” A life that has been polished will eventually shine with a brilliance that ordinary years cannot compare.

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Just when I got to know her, the hairy girl only wants to beat me up!Prim childhood sweetheart treads on me underfoot!Childhood friend turned sister suddenly demands I repay the kindness of upbringing?...Are all these twists of human nature, or the moral decay?Surrounded by young girls wielding knives, Shen Mo Dust trembles: 'Author, why do I only meet bad women?''What exactly are you not satisfied with, let's switch roles!'Jealous at having crafted the protagonist's peak of life with his own hands but without a single girl by his side, the author furiously slams the keyboard!(Spotting the little whips raised by the venerable readers, he picks up the keyboard again)The alternate titles of this book are 'They Shine Like Stars' and 'They Are Lonely Like Stars'.

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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.”