Mash-Up: I'm Not A Substitute - Chapter 243 - 242: Yukinoshita Yukino vs. Kitahara Takashi (4)

“Are you going to shoot me, baby?““Don“t tempt me.“.He killed her parents and left her orphaned. She lived all her life building her strength. She had one mission: revenge. Kill Anthony Murray at all costs. When she is assigned to go undercover and destroy his organization will she be able to keep herself from destroying him or will she jump in front of the bullets that are shot hi...

Six years ago, the legitimate daughter of the Chu Family was schemed against by her half-sister and was forced to marry the Princely Heir, who was blind and not long for this world.Fortunately, her medical skills were excellent, and she detoxified the Princely Heir.Who would have thought after he came back to life, the emperor would actually want to bestow a concubine upon him—and this jerk didn't even refuse.Furious, she left a divorce letter and then set the Prince Residence on fire, fleeing in haste.Six years later, the same Princely Heir remained a lonely man, with all his old servants worrying their hearts out.One day, upon encountering a Little Baozi on the street who looked strikingly like the Princely Heir, they instantly burst into tears.“The Prince Residence has a successor! Princely Heir, please come back with us to the Prince Residence quickly.”Who knew, Little Baozi disdainfully said, “Not interested.”“Princely Heir, the Prince Residence is immensely wealthy...”“My mother is the wealthiest person!”“Princely Heir, the Prince Residence is extremely safe...”“My mother is the Martial Arts Alliance Hierarch!”“Princely Heir, the Prince Residence has powerful armies...”“My mother is the heir to the Nanduan Kingdom!”Suddenly, a faint voice came from behind: “Then, does your mother need an Imperial Consort? I think myself quite suitable.”

The only way to stop the earth’s doom.Is to seduce the girl who is the student council president.

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.”