A Night of Desperation - Chapter 390: Battlefield 388 II

When other people experience a body transformation, it is inevitably either male to female or female to male.

Me? I wake up to find myself transformed into two different bodies.

Both a male body and a female body, one conscience operating two bodies, all sorts of embarrassing moments.

Walking together normally makes other people think that I am sweethearts with my other-self, such sadness.

Also, the entire business of a hero rescuing the beautiful maiden, I call Bull.

I get slashed by a sword and my female body gets abducted, and he wants me to thank him?!?! Can it be less of a tragedy?

- Description from Novelupdates

I was reincarnated as the supporting character of a novel. As a wingwoman in a depressing romance novel titled at that. Romance is out of the question, and the future of my family is ominous because of debt. I was going to become a civil servant to gain some of the splendor I never got in my last life…but the male love interests are acting kind of strange?! “Just think about it, does Shushu look like someone who would blush and act shy?” “Wow…….that would be great.” Cory said as he stared at Hylli in a daze, and Yves frowned and whispered to himself. “Should I just kidnap her…….” Swan wrapped his face with both of his hands and stayed quiet. His face turned bright red. The blush turned his ears red. Why are you guys fooling around, you’re supposed to be obsessing over the heroine. The story of Shuraina West, Shushu’s reverse harem academy survival. Note: Ojakgyo means wingman/woman!

I gave them my everything.My time… my strength… my heart.I trained while they slept.I smiled when they laughed.I stayed… even when it hurt.And what did I get?Nothing.They looked at me like I was pathetic.Like, I didn’t belong.Like I was… less.But I... the naive person I am, continued trusting them.They told me to act like trash, fine—I became trash.They told me to act like a scumbag, fine—I played the role.However...One mistake, one single moment...That’s all it took.And they threw me away.But now…Someone else woke up in my body.A stranger, a man who doesn’t know the pain I suffered, but wears my face.Let’s see what he does with it.Because me?I’m done with this life, so to the soul who took over my body...This is your mess now…'Gray'.

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.”