Charm point maxed out, inheriting game assets - Chapter 44 - 43 Meiting Discount Clothing Store

Not everyone wants to live a life filled with fame, riches, glory, and honor. Some, just want the easy life. To live a life that simply plays itself over and over, with a hint of spice here and there.

Li Qiao, a soft and glutinous girl, dresses up as the little daughter-in-law of a poor family.

Rural household registration, two dilapidated houses.

What she didn’t know was that her husband, who was not stingy at home, would become a business tycoon in the future, possessing supreme status and untold wealth.

What’s more, she didn’t know that the reborn step-sister was determined to take her place as the rich wife.

The step-sister is often persuaded to leave: brother-in-law drinks and fights, and is not good enough for you.

Li Qiao is irritable every day: He said he deserves me to death.

The step-sister added: He is too poor, you and your children suffer hardships with him.

Li Qiao blushed: He said that it is difficult to divide a child unless there is another one.

stepsister: …

- Description from novelbuddy

Lynn traveled to a magical world similar to the European Middle Ages but possessing magical powers.

Here, magic can affect and control elementary particles.

So…a scientific theory is a magic formula!

Wizards called spellcasters who are actually scientists, under the siege of the Holy See, struggled to explore the truth of the world, until the arrival of Lin En, which set off a renaissance of an alien version…

(PS: The 2 million-word work “Hogwarts Bloodline Wizards” has already been completed, and the quality is guaranteed!)

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”