First Marriage, then love: wife, never divorce - Chapter 1887

When a young woman is killed in a traffic accident on her way home from work at a tax bureau, she suddenly finds herself transported to the world of the otome game she was playing the night before – but instead of the heroine, she’s been reincarnated as the bad guy! Using her knowledge of the game, “Iris” manages to avert personal disaster and decides to rebuild her life with her modern-day economic know-how. This is one mean girl who isn’t going to let her perceived reputation stop her from being a heroine!

Jiang Li takes a meal and gains the status [Satiety].

[Satiety: Restores 1 Stamina per minute. Duration: ∞]

He no longer has to eat.

He sticks a talisman on himself and gains the status [Armored Horse Divine Travel].

[Armored Horse Divine Travel: Increase movement speed by 1000%. Duration: ∞]

Taking pills, gaining spiritual qi, refining the body, nurturing the soul, and increasing life expectancy…

He only needs one pill for the status to take effect for the rest of his life.

Those crippling secret techniques that boost power for three seconds but result in three-year feebleness? They are now the most powerful and most amazing techniques!

Waiting for a thousand years to comprehend the Dao after using one enlightenment pill? No, he is comprehending the Dao every day!

He is Jiang Li, a Prince Charming who can turn an instant into eternity →_→…

I regret having lived as a villain.

So when I got a second chance after regressing, I tried to live a good life…

But then a villain became obsessed with 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.”