Digging To Survive: I Can See Hints - Chapter 549 - Change Of Stance

Her first encounter with Qin Sijue is an unexpected one. While trying to hide from her pursuers, she accidentally barges into his changing room. Yet, their paths crosses again fatefully—after a fake marriage, she legally becomes his bride. She imagines that they will only interact before the agreement ends, after which they would have nothing to do with each other. However, Qin Sijue comes over with two red booklets—their wedding certificate. “Take them for an appraisal and see if they’re real”.

The daughter of a duke, the stuttering Maximilian, married a knight of lowly status at her father’s coercion.

Descent of the Phoenix – 13 Years Old Princess Consort

The strongest female assassin from a special assassination force met her death one day on a mission. To her surprise, she woke up in the body of a 13 year old girl, Mu Rong Liu Yue. Through Liu Yue’s past memories, she found out that she was bullied due to the huge birthmark on her face, even though she came from a renowned family. Liu Yue was beaten to death by her own cousin, and that’s how she managed to enter Liu Yue’s battered body. The assassin then decided to live her life as Liu Yue and swore to avenge her death.

- 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.”