Global Awakening: Only I Know Future Information - Chapter 340 - 264: Gesture of Goodwill? Settling Old Scores, Shocking Everyone

The king of assassins was reborn, mastering both alchemy and poison. Sitting inside the space, there was a ghost that loved crying.

One day, Yoichi who grew up while not knowing his parents has received the news of his father’s death. His father left behind a testament——which said he is to pick only one out of five ‘little sister candidates’?!

Jiang Chaosheng has passed the book. The male protagonist is the reborn prince with excellent luck, and he is the cannon fodder prince who is destined to fail in the palace fight. He is about to be sent to the desolate island in the extreme south, and the fiefs are less than 100 people.

Jiang Chaosheng sunbathed salt, fished… He soon prepared abundant supplies for the rest of his life, but there was an accident when he was eating and waiting to die. He was slow to discover that there were fish thieves in the house!

Jiang Chaosheng set a trap and successfully caught the fish thief on the spot
It was a beautiful merman with eyes like emeralds and hair like sapphire
The poor little merman has a slender waist, glistening scales, and a pitiful posture: I can’t afford the supplies, but I can be your wife and give birth to a little mermaid to repay you
Jiang Chaosheng: Also… not impossible
After a long time, Jiang Chaosheng learned that his wife is actually the villain of the original text, the psychological shadow of the male protagonist Long Aotian, the King of the Sea who is rich in the sea.
The lucky salted fish attack vs the cruel shark emperor
Content tags: childbirth, spirits, ghosts, sweet texts, through books
Search keywords: Protagonists: Jiang Chaosheng, Ji Xuanbing ┃ Supporting roles: ┃ Others:

- 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.”