Bringing the Nation's Husband Home - Chapter 934: Continuation (15)

Elaina never anticipated discovering that her husband, the reigning emperor of the Kingdom of Luminiera, was unfaithful. To make matters worse, the one seemingly attempting to undermine their marriage was none other than her sister!Unable to confront this harsh reality, Elaina resolved to plan her escape and distance herself from her husband. However, a significant complication emerged while she was plotting her departure—she was pregnant with the emperor's child. Determined not to subject her child to the consequences of her husband's infidelity, she chose to flee with her child and embark on a fresh start in the neighboring kingdom of Darcero, utilizing her expertise in farming while also planning on raising the child that she will give birth soon all on her own without the need and support of a father.As fortune would have it, the gods appeared to favor her resolve. “Because the gods are impressed by your dedication, we reward you with a helper that will allow you to flourish in this land. In exchange, you help us grow plants that are not yet present in this world and spread them all over the world. Activating the Farm Helper. Welcome, host!”Now faced with the prospect of an entirely new life and the responsibility of her unborn child, Elaina must navigate the challenges that lie ahead. What trials and tribulations will she encounter as she endeavors to build a life for herself and her child in this unfamiliar territory?

After Lin Xu died, she discovered that the world she was in was a novel.Her eldest son liked to imprison the female protagonist of the novel, engaging in sinister villainous acts with a dark room play.Her youngest son would unfailingly draw substitute’s blood and snatch substitutes’ kidneys for the female protagonist’s legal antagonist — his unrequited love.Her only daughter was the romantic fool forever revolving around the male protagonist of the novel.If children are not disciplined, the mother is to blame. After being reborn, Lin Xu felt she should step in and discipline her wayward children.However, before she could take action, her eldest son’s dark, handsome, and usually cold face blushed slightly as he asked in a low voice, “Can I touch my head?”The middle son snorted and turned his head, his tone petulant, “I… I don’t want to go home, but if you insist, I’ll do it begrudgingly.”The youngest daughter rushed over, mercilessly pushing her brothers aside, “Mom, come and teach me how to solve this problem~”Latter, both sons fought over the bowl of noodles Lin Xu cooked. What was a novel’s female protagonist? Nothing compared to their mother.The daughter transformed herself, letting nothing from any novel’s male protagonist interfere with her studies!The family was blissfully happy.Latter, the revived, amnesiac husband suddenly appeared, cornering her against the wall, his eyes full of struggle, “Even if you’re married, I still love you.”Lin Xu pretended to be serious, “Is that so, then what should we do?”He hugged her tightly, his voice muffled and pained, “Divorce him!”Lin Xu chuckled secretly, “I’ll divorce him right away.”Latter, after the husband regained his memory, he said through gritted teeth, “Over my dead body will we divorce!”

Death, Depression, Poverty, Love issues – all things that a 27-year no-name writer faces.

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.”