My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger - Chapter 175: Old Accounts

After receiving his terminal illness diagnosis, Chu Xun could finally let go of everything. The most important thing of being alive is after all, one’s own happiness.

Dumping a jerk, getting back on his retarded colleagues, firing his dumbass boss, staying in a luxurious house, enjoying a feast and bedding a young, energetic and handsome guy—Chu Xun very coolly did what he didn’t dare to do in the past!

All his savings were spent and as he laid down waiting for his death, the doctor apologetically told him, “I’m so sorry, we misdiagnosed.”

“…” Chu Xun felt faint.

He did another checkup and thought, he did feel unwell recently though?

The doctor looked grim.

Chu Xun’s heart skipped a beat. “Don’t tell me it wasn’t a misdiagnosis after all. Am I sick?”

Doctor: “You do not have a terminal illness, but you are… You are pregnant.”

Chu Xun: “???” Ermm, he’s a guy?

And later, the child’s father, that young, energetic and handsome man, who also happened to be a 26-year-old billionaire, Lin Yanchen, appeared and handed out a marriage certificate already signed by him. “I’ll take responsibility. Let’s get married.”

Chu Xun only realised now that his 30-years-late love life, as though blooming blossoms, was flooding in.

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The night before we obtained our marriage certificate, I asked him, “When did you start to develop feelings for me?”

He answered, “I don’t remember.”

“But, why me?”

“Why not you?”

“I’m very petty, and I get jealous very easily.”

“So am I.”

“I’m afraid I’m not worthy of you.”

“So am I.”

“I haven’t really dated, so I don’t know what love is.”

“I don’t know either.”

He held my hand gently, “But I know this. When I think about spending the rest of my life with you, I feel that my future is filled with hope.”

At 16, we used the same class desk, with less than 10cm between our arms. My peripheral vision was full of him.

At 26, I woke up in the morning, and saw the sunlight softly shining on his face. I thought, this is how I want to grow old – gradually, together, with him.

I guess this must be love.

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.”

“You really want me to save people?”

Looking at the shivering victim in front of him,

Look at the [Owl’s Head Wire], [The Murderer’s Gift], [Universal Anesthetic], [Invisible Potion] in the item column…

Shiraishi touched the hideous mask on his face and fell into deep thought.

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“The Salary Thief in the Distillery”

“What does the vest do to me have anything to do with it?”

“There are limits to being a human being, I choose to be a cat…”

The magic version of Conan

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