Records of Dungeon Travel - Chapter 236

The new book has been released “The Fierce Lord: Goodnight, Little Sweet Wife”. Everyone says that the mysterious family's Second Young Master Bo is cold, ruthless, and not close to women. Rumor has it that he is a high-ranking disabled man with hidden ailments.However, Mu Shini complains endlessly after hearing this. How is this hypocritical man not close to women? He is an outright rogue!She runs, he chases, and he confines her: “Woman, do you think that after becoming mine, you still have a chance to escape?”His endless entanglement makes her intolerable. “Divorce! I'll live with the child!”I recommend my other book “The President's On Top: New Wife, Stop Making Trouble”.

[Pop text, no abuse, strong women, group pets! 】

After Ruan Qi became popular.

Black powder: No matter how beautiful, there is no culture.

In the afternoon, the highest academic institution of China issued a blog-to introduce, the youngest doctoral supervisor of our school, Professor Ruan Qi.

Heifen: What is the purpose of Chao Xueba Ren? Finally, he had to bow his head to the gold master.

On the second day, Ruan Qi appeared at the International Economic Conference and signed the famous brand-Chairman of Qimu Pharmaceutical Group.

Black powder: Earn so much money, I don’t know how to contribute to the country.

Three days later, the official press release-the latest nuclear submarine came out, thanks to the chief designer Ruan Qi and all R&D members!

Fans:…

Can’t afford it, goodbye.

*

After getting married, a reporter asked Xi Jiu: How did you get to Goddess Ruan, Jiuye?

Xi Jiu opened a diary silently.

Wife Chasing Diary:

1. Make a list for your baby.

2. Vote for the baby.

Three, support for the baby.

Fourth, the baby’s movie must be reserved.

5. Join the Baby Support Club.

…As everyone knows, Goddess Ruan has a universe-level rich and iron fan-Xi Jia Jiu Ye, Xi Jiu!

- Description from novelbuddy

Eshwar is the name of the author who transmigrated into his own novel after his death. Eshwar’s death was caused by his own magic which he had yet to control. Why? because I didn't think I would seriously die!!!!

Anyway.... my novel's protagonist is a selfish person. why you ask? because I wrote him and I wanted him to be like me. Muhahahaha, ha.

I reincarnated into my novel!

and that to as a villain who dies in the first half, will I stand still and die?

Of course not, I may have reincarnated as a villain but its not like I will live like he did.

I'll live my life as I want! and kill all the other villains.

Why? because I love the world I created, hahaha, ha.... (real reason: I love to fight.), who else will get the chance to look at the world they have created?

System I created is messed up for some reason and is doing everything on its own!!???

we'll see how it turns out with everything messed up, well(sigh...)

Oh, but because i have reincarnated as a villain, I got a new problem and that is,

I'm handsome (sparkles), I have to say, handsome people have their own problems.

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.”