My Special Ability Is Perfect Replication - Chapter 323 - Yanhuang Deities, the Titans

I got cheated on cheh ~ don't worry I have five men who dote on me .

A stoic man who couldn't string two sentences ? I will make him rap watch me .

A hot and cold tsundere who has a venomous tongue for opposite gender ? I will make him pour honey from his mouth .

A stupid and childish man ? see how he flirts like a womanizer with me .

A gentle scholar , cough he ain't gentle with me on bed

A shy introvert ?see him become a wolf in sheep's clothing .

Su Wan - a thirty years old divorced woman who was cheated on by her husband and step sister , spends a night drinking alcohol all the while watching how her ex husband and step sister makes a joke of themselves .

” ahhh !You bastard ! You slag man you think this old lady won't have a man anymore ???Not only this great aunty will have a man ! I will have five men ! One to sleep ! two to roll and three to pamper !! “

Amidst her alcohol intake she passes out only to find her self transmigrated over to a small village in ancient China and that too on her wedding day with The five Lin brothers !

Sixty years after the global catastrophe, the Little Freeze Period ended, and the governments of the living regions began to collect land in the anarchic areas to be planned on a large scale, reorganized resources, and entered the recovery stage in an all-round way. These two decades are also called “golden Twenty years”.

This is a bright era in which new regions are rising one after another, politics is set up, capital is acting, careerists are everywhere, heroes are powerful, villains and grassroots are rising together! A young man rises up in troubled times with a full stomach of strategy, hides a tiger in his chest, and measures the world.

- Description from novelbuddy

Martin was a succubus who perished at the hands of the Sun God, struck down by a single divine arrow during the epic war between gods and demons. Meanwhile, Martin, a Ph.D. in literature and a seasoned movie enthusiast, lost his life in a car accident in August 2023. By some cosmic twist of fate, the souls of the two Martins converged within the chaotic currents of time and space, merging and eventually settling in the body of an eleven-year-old boy named Martin Myers, living in Los Angeles in 1996.A world without spiritual energy? Fortunately, as a succubus, I don’t need spiritual energy to cultivate; all I need is the essence of desire. Emotions—joy, anger, sorrow, and excitement—are all desires. As long as these emotions are directed at me, they can become fuel for my growth. Alright, let’s see what reliable ways exist in this world to stir people’s emotions en masse. Hmm, becoming a writer—sounds promising; and music, that could work too; but wow, Hollywood movies! They have a global reach; this is perfect! What’s that term again? Right—“Idea Recycler.” I’ll start with writing, but the ultimate goal is to become an international movie star. Acting skills, you say? Don’t worry—I’m a succubus, after all!Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to this novel. All characters, settings, and plot elements belong to the original author and copyright holder. This work is shared purely for entertainment purposes, with no intent to infringe on the original creator’s rights.

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.”