How a Former Pro Takes Advantage by Doing an Easy Job - Chapter 14

She, the only descendant of Chinese ancient martial arts, a stunning ghost hand genius doctor, once passed through into the Ye family waste lady.

Open your eyes again, the sky and the earth are surging! What? Born waste? Disaster star? Very good, she will soon let them see what is born waste, what is a star of misfortune.

He is the evil emperor respected by thousands of people, mysterious, noble, and unattainable.

When he met her, she avoided him like a snake, and he entangled her like a vine.

“Evil Emperor, it’s not good, Madam ran away again!”

“Chasing!”

“Evil Emperor, it’s not good, Madam is hiding!”

“Look!”

- Description from novelbuddy

A soul named Wu Ling Feng transferred into a male magician character in DNF, that very moment Devil King’s journey officially began…

Enemies magic needs to be chanted, his doesn’t require such, it’s instantaneous magic. His second skill actually allows him to summon permanent dolls, whining Loli dolls, royal sister dolls, whatever he wants…

Loli girl : Onii-chan, don’t do that, it will be painful, ar…

- Description from Novelupdates

A fickle, decadent, wilful person going through life like it’s a game.

An experienced, logical mind that’s above feelings.

This was a relationship that had started off with “Carpe Diem”, but slowly turned into a bloodless, psychological battle. They shared a mutual distrust, but also mutual attraction. As they suspected and tested each other, challenging each other’s limits, they both fell into the enemy’s hands with their eyes wide open. Sentiments growing amidst ignorance, they finally, were caught in their own traps.

Winner takes all,

Loser stands small.

- 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.”