CLEAVER OF SIN - Chapter 39: Balance

"Uncle, I was punished for being late! " "Buy the school. ""Uncle, I was bullied! " "SEND THEM TO HEAVEN! "In this era of competing for fathers, Qin Sheng never competed for fathers. Those things were too extravagant. She didn't have them, she only competed for uncles!Ever since she had a rich uncle, she lived a life of fighting and being cleaned up by others, causing trouble and being scapegoated by others.Her three big goals in life were to make him fall in love with her, fall in love with her, fall in love with her!

Bathed in the love of her imperial family and her husband, Yun Shang was a spoiled princess and the envy of many at the Royal Court. Her life had been perfect right up till the moment when she realized that everything was just a sham, a ruse designed by the Empress to ruin Yun Shang. After enduring bitter treachery and being poisoned, Yun Shang died with a broken heart and an unfulfilled vow of vengeance. As if God was answering her final request, Yun Shang found herself reborn like an immortal phoenix. She was eight again, and all her memories from her previous life remained intact. The others, however, did not remember the events leading up to her death. Determined not to repeat her mistakes, Yun Shang planned to rain hellfire onto the treacherous, backstabbing villains for all the heart-wrenching pain they had once inflicted upon her. He was the handsome and smart prince of the Ning, who was revered as a battle-hardened general that knew no match in the world. He had thought he wouldn’t settle for anyone until she showed up. A seemingly innocent young princess and a gorgeous prince. Where would their relationship lead them?

- Description from Novelupdates

The Demon King dies and the entire Demon Realm perishes in the prologue of “The Demon King is Dead,” and I have become the Demon Prince of that novel.

… Somebody save me.

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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.”