Major General's Smart and Gorgeous Wife - Chapter 17 - Hot Thread

After she had transmigrated into the body of an abandoned wife of a little marquis in Ancient China, Su Nuan Nuan, a modern-day food lover was delighted!

The snake, Yu Yaoyao, transmigrated into a third-rate actress who was only a pitiful cannon fodder in the novel.

This little actress met a dark accident, her diamond husband was robbed, her son died miserably, and she was at the lowest peak of her career. Ultimately, she became paralyzed in the end.

Yu Yaoyao is determined to change everything!

From there on, she became a mistress, a loving mother and practiced the art of acting through multitasking!

At the other end of the line…

The male lead looked patiently at Yu Yaoyao straddling his waist: Get off!

Yu Yaoyao: I won’t! Husband, that film emperor is extremely ugly! I’m so scared I can’t even sleep at night properly ~ let’s make a second child—calm down, don’t be frightened!

Yu Yaoyao: …Isn’t that me?

Director: As an actor, when I say ‘start’ your tears should immediately fall…oh, that’s enough, there’s no need to cry more.

Yu Yaoyao: It’s nothing.

- Description from Novelupdates

One week. If you survive, you choose a Cosmic Power... you survive. Jace isn’t one to give up. Not when his sister dies. Not when he loses his legs. And definitely not when The Cosmic System takes over Earth. With nothing more than his street smarts, the clothes on his back, and a river otter companion; he must survive a planet full of vicious predators that see him as an easy meal. If he can survive? He gets to choose a Cosmic Power and a Class. A path to ascension. A way to bring his sister back.

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.”