I Just Want Players to Save Money, They Insist on Giving Me! - Chapter 63 - 37 Blue Star War Criminal Step Forward_1

There is always such a person in the world, his family background is better than yours, his status is higher than yours, while you work hard and think all the way up, but with just a wave of his hand, you are wiped out. What is even more sad is that he doesn’t even know who you are.

Zheng Jue met Han Jin like this but he didn’t realize this truth until he died. In the end, he had found the wrong opponent and ultimately lost his life.

- Description from Novelupdates

What if the president always coerces her to do “hard work” on the grounds of deducting her salary?
To do or not to do?
After finishing the work, Lin Sheng silently took out his mobile phone, opened the circle of friends, and pressed down word by word:
The president asked me to work at her house again!
President, she has a little white face!
The woman behind the successful woman is me! it’s me!

Domineering domineering president X small staff
The daily life of the president and the staff is so sweet and sweet~

- Description from novelbuddy

STAFF NOTE: The author had proven ownership. RighteousEgg is the original author. I have added a pinned comment to the first chapter to show this staff note is legitimate.---Chu Xuan traversed the Mystic Azure Realm and became a demonic cultivator in the Infinite Sect. To cultivate as a demonic cultivator means to plunder the essence of the heavens and earth and seize the quintessence of all things. One has to slaughter countless beings to rise as a supreme demon lord. However, such killing was intolerable under the heavenly Dao of the human race. Consequently, the Infinite Sect was annihilated by the orthodox sects. In desperation, Chu Xuan stumbled upon a Blood Mirror, which allowed him to travel to a post-apocalyptic planet overrun with zombies! He realized that this place was a perfect sanctuary exclusively for demonic cultivators! If he dared to sacrifice a million humans, the heavenly laws would strike him with thunder and burn him to ashes. But if he sacrificed a million zombies, not only would he face no disasters, but he would also be showered with golden blossoms, enveloped in glorious light, and blessed with merits!

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.”