Forbidden Affair with My Mafia Stepbrother R18 - Chapter 31: Alone with Him

Chu Mu Yun relied on his story of 《Demon Realm》 to become a one-hit wonder in JJWXC, but the him who had written seven mental cases to abuse seven mental cases to death would never have expected that he himself would transmigrate into this shitty novel!
What the hell is this system on the bracelet?
And what the hell is this either propose to seven men, or suffer the taste of a tragic death experience under the hands of these seven people?
I just wanted to write a novel to satisfy my bad interests, who would actually want to get tangled up with a bunch of mad dog sad*st crazies?

- Description from Novelupdates

By the time I reached thirty, I hadn't managed to provide any of the happiness I wanted for my wife.I also still couldn't become the support my parents relied on.At this turning point in my fate, my income suddenly began to increase randomly.(A daily life tale in a wealthy family setting, featuring a single female lead and no harem.)

Stands in front of you,The overseer and protector of darkness,The disruptor and reinventor of order,The creator and persecutor of sycophants,The hidden actress queen, the goddess of the night, the nightmare of Gods and their gravedigger,The True Ancestor of Blood—Charlotte de Castell.Accompanied by madness, born from blood, hand in hand with curses, walking alongside destruction.This is a tale belonging to the Bloodborne…

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.”