One Piece Talent System - CHAPTER 291 DEVELOPING RAPIDLY AFTER A SUDDEN TURN

Married for three years without returning home? The charming '70s woman wants a divorce.[Cold and aloof pilot vs. stunning translator, period 1v1, husband-chasing drama]On the first day of their marriage, Jiang Zhixun applied for a transfer to the Northwest, rebelling against his arranged marriage with Shen Qingqing.In the three years that followed, they never saw each other again.When Shen Qingqing was diagnosed with amnesia, she made a decision within half an hour.She decided to go to the Northwest.To find Jiang Zhixun and get a divorce!An exceptional beauty arrived at the barracks, elegant, refined, and well-educated, yet married to a cold-faced tyrant.Jiang Zhixun was convinced Shen Qingqing had come to pester him.He avoided her.Evaded her.Yet, he couldn’t help being drawn to her.Jiang Zhixun decided to keep Shen Qingqing and live a good life with her.But Shen Qingqing proposed a divorce.Jiang Zhixun: “You came to the Northwest just for a divorce?”Shen Qingqing: “Yes, divorce.”After the divorce, Shen Qingqing returned to Beijing.Her memories of the time in the Northwest gradually faded, until eventually, she even forgot who Jiang Zhixun was.On a snowy, stormy night, the man stubbornly stood outside the door, his eyes tinged with crimson.“Mister Shen, I’m your new neighbor.”“My name is Jiang Zhixun.”

« MATURE CONTENT »His name is Raven Lustre. And the universe fucked him from day one.Imagine this: You get isekai'd to a fantasy world. Finally, right? Your moment. Dragon slayers, demon kings, the whole power fantasy package. Except when everyone else rolled Dragon, Archangel, Titan—bloodlines so pure they could split mountains on day one—you got Incubus.60% purity. The discount bin special.Not the “seduce and conquer” kind you read about in those masterpiece web novels. The “your pheromones are weaker than cologne” kind. The “you can't charm anyone stronger than you” kind. Which in a world where everyone else is a walking apocalypse? Means you can't charm anyone who matters.So while Gareth—the muscle-brained Titan hero—was bench-pressing boulders, and Astasia—the Holy Archangel with a body that belonged in a cathedral and a face she hid behind a helmet—was literally glowing with divine power, Raven was in the back. The strategist. The brain. The guy they kept around because someone had to think.And they hated him for it.Astasia called him trash. Disgusting. Bastard. Freak.Every curse word a noblewoman could learn, she threw at him like stones. He thought she despised him. Thought she saw him as the weakest link dragging down the hero party.Turns out? 89% favorability. She was a fucking tsundere.And he never knew. Never saw it. Because he was too busy surviving, too busy stealing quick fucks with noblewomen in hallways just to recharge his trash-tier powers, too busy being treated like a prostitute with a brain instead of a hero.Then there was Nyra. The cat-woman. Gareth's slave. The one Raven fucked in secret because that idiot was too busy drawing pictures of Astasia like a lovesick puppy. 96% favorability. The one who actually loved him. The one he promised to free.And he failed.An Incubus got who died at Hand of Succubus during their first Session.The End.

He took her as payment.He never expected to fall for her fire.When Mira Valente’s brother vanishes with cartel money, the mafia comes knocking—and she’s the price.Cold, ruthless, and untouchably powerful, Jace Romano doesn’t need a wife. But Mira? She’s defiant, sharp-tongued, and everything he wasn’t prepared for.Forced into a marriage she never wanted, Mira enters a world ruled by silence, blood, and shadows. Jace may own her freedom, but not her soul. She refuses to break, even as the lines between hate and desire begin to blur.But when secrets surface, betrayals cut deep, and war brews on all sides, Mira and Jace must choose: destroy each other—or fight to survive something neither of them ever saw coming.A slow-burn, enemies-to-lovers mafia romance filled with power, passion, and the kind of love that could ruin them both… or make them unstoppable.

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.”