Marrying A Tyrant To Save The Kingdom - Chapter 230: Moan My Name (18+)

Have you ever seen someone buy a daddy for himself?

One day, a little boy named Fu Xing comes across a stranger, Han Siqi, and insists on buying the man to be his daddy. Besides, he is ready to give his mommy to the man for free! How ridiculous!

Fu Zhengzheng, Fu Xing’s mother, is a policewoman who is going to work undercover at Weihan Group. Her real aim is to investigate a drug trafficking case in this well-known company in B city.

The first day Fu Zhengzheng goes to Weihan Group, she is surprised to find that her new boss is Han Siqi, the man Fu Xing has bought to be his daddy! More surprisingly, Han Siqi looks the same as Nian Xi, Fu Xing’s blood father! She loves Nian Xi deeply but has lost track of him for many years.

Is Han Siqi really the man she has always been looking for? How will Han Siqi respond to the son and wife that suddenly appear in his life? Will he accept them? Is Han Siqi involved in the drug trafficking case?

To search for the answers, please keep reading the novel, which will definitely tell you a wonderful and surprising story.

- Description from Novelupdates

Follow Tristan Hale on his journey to become the G.O.A.T. in football. After a life-changing car accident, Tristan is transported back to his youth, where he seizes a second chance at greatness.

What happens when one eats Death?

Personally, I don’t really know. What I do know is merely one thing.

I’m hungry.

Therefore, I’ll take the heads of these guys and deliver them to my superiors.

Surely, I’ll be able to eat delicious food.

Come, if preparations are in order, we depart.

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.”