MTL - Exploiting Hollywood 1980 - Chapter 932 oscar on strike

I wrote a book once.It was an unhinged fantasy born from my high-school brain, driven by loneliness and too many hormones.It was a world of beastmen, wild freedom, and the kind of romantic attention I could never get in real life. I poured every impossible desire into it: adventure, danger, and yes… a 'lot' of handsome partners.Before I knew it, I had a thousand chapters of pure escapism and pure thrill.Then on a college camping trip, I fell off a cliff.I expected to wake up in a hospital room but nope. I woke up on a soft field of grass, with air too fresh to belong anywhere on Earth.And then something moved behind me.Sticking out of my tailbone was... A tail.My tail?Yellow and black stripes and very, very real.I touched it. Completely real.My ears? Also gone—well, moved. They were now perched on top of my head like a confused jungle cat. And the outfit? Quite revealing, made of animal hide which matched my tail.What was going on?At first, I thought it was a prank. Or a dream. Or maybe karma is finally cashing in. But the more foreign memories evaded my mind, the clearer my situation became.This wasn't cosplay and it wasn't Earth, either.And—surprise—it wasn't even the world from my own book. Welp.I had been transported into a completely different Beastman world as a beast girl called Arinya.Sounds fun, right?Well… it would be, if I weren't apparently the ugliest duckling in the entire freaking savannah! Rejected by every potential mate I stumbled across and sneered at like a freaking eyesore.This was not how I planned my fantasy to come to reality.Trust me—if this is my fantasy come true, then someone needs to fire the author.But then again, after entering this world, I'm suddenly... Attractive.I mean, there's no change to my face and the freckles are still there, but for some reason, handsome beastmen begin to flock around me, because I smell... Pleasant.What's that all about?

Her first encounter with Qin Sijue is an unexpected one. While trying to hide from her pursuers, she accidentally barges into his changing room. Yet, their paths crosses again fatefully—after a fake marriage, she legally becomes his bride. She imagines that they will only interact before the agreement ends, after which they would have nothing to do with each other. However, Qin Sijue comes over with two red booklets—their wedding certificate. “Take them for an appraisal and see if they’re real”.

Programmer Li Daochong desperately develops the game code, dying. After waking up, being born again in a ghost-invading future comprehension world, isn’t that a pothole?

However, Li Daochong brought his own ghost upgrade system, which made my green onion. Others are devilish and scared, and they rush to hell. Hey, isn’t this the tip of China? I want to eat, drool!

Eating is not the most important thing. The key can be upgraded. How many levels does it take to finish?
　　
“Li Daoyou please stay, people want to go to the edge of the magic field on the edge of the magic field, can you accompany others? People are afraid!” Hongyang fairy is dripping at Li Daochong.

“Li predecessor, can you please go with a younger generation to go to a ghost dragon?” A white-haired girl who is more than two hundred years old can look at Li Daochong helplessly.

- Description from uukanshu (translated)

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.”