My Accidental Husband is a Billionaire！ - Chapter 399 - 398

After leaving earth in a pathetic way, Asher finds his soul in the body of a baron's bastard son.As the last surviving member of the Ashbournes, Asher must take up the mantle and build his territory or die in the jaws of a beast or the blades of hungry nobles greedy for his territory.Luckily, he did not enter this man-eat-man world without support.[Ding! Soulbinding successfully completed.][Would the host like to upgrade your bronze-ranked butler to a powerful silver-ranked swordsman? Yes or No.]

Megumi Fujiboma, a boy who met an untimely end, awakens to find himself reincarnated as the head of the prestigious Fujiboma household, a branch family of the revered Boma clan.From the moment of his birth, everyone eagerly anticipated the growth of this remarkable heir. However, their enthusiasm quickly faded when Megumi was revealed to lack external abilities, and was declared unfit to become an exorcist—one of those destined to drive the world away from darkness.Yet, Megumi was not one to be easily defeated. He possessed a powerful binding system that equipped him to transform his circumstances far sooner than expected.[Target successfully bound]********[Talent has successfully awakened: Grade One Fire Talent][Receiving tenfold the rewards]

Imperial soldier Suldak Helansa joined the infantry regiment of the Grand Duke Newman in Bena province, participated in the Warsaw plane war, and rescued a young man in the forest battle. This qualified young man suffered some injuries. Injured, still a mute, Suldak brought him into the barracks, and what we are telling is the story of this young man of unknown origin…

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”