Seed of Titan - Chapter 15: A Sensitive Matter

The eldest daughter of the Yan family, Yan Jinyu, who has been missing for 16 years, has been found. She is brought back from an orphanage by her fiancé, the Second Master of the Yin family.

Ding! Congratulations, received 7 billion red envelopes!

Ding! Congratulations, you have received 50 million yuan.

Ding! Congratulations, you have won a Lamborghini Daniel.

Ding! Congratulations, you have obtained 51% of the shares of a listed company.

Ding! Congratulations, you have obtained a first-grade building from Tomson.

Ding! Congratulations, get the skill fighting king.

Ding! Congratulations, you have acquired the skill Tian Lai Singing Voice.

…… ……

Lin Fan: 7 billion red envelopes? When should I order?

Street reporter: How long can you earn 1 million?

Lin Fan:…

Street reporter: Why do you keep blinking?

Lin Fan: Didn’t you ask me how long it takes to earn 1 million?

PS: Welcome to read my book “Super Red Envelope Fairy Group” and “The Heavens Red Envelope Chat Group”.

An old baseball player gets another chance to live the sport he loves, but this time as a system! The son of one of Japan's greatest pitchers has a dream to follow in his father's footsteps and become a great professional, but he has a major problem, lack of talent.Follow the journey of Shun Takahashi, a young baseball player without talent who receives the old baseball player system. Hellish training, legendary skills, impossible missions, good friends, talented rivals, and maybe luck in love. Shun and the system have a complicated relationship, but they both share the same goal, to be the greatest of all time!

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.”