Reincarnation: My Possessive Beast Husband - Chapter 157 - 158 Lets Go Now

Fang Heng was transmigrated to a parallel world and his soul was forced into the body of a man who had just committed suicide.Huh? What? Every human here was being forced to join a game? Those who refused would be killed?Wait? This suicide dude was a pro gamer?He had the highest S-rank talent sill, the Zombie Clone?Damn! The S-rank skill evolved! My zombie clones could auto hunt![Your zombie army has crafted Wooden Axe x720 when you were offline. You have received 1921 experience points for the Basic Crafting skill.][Your zombie army has chopped down 27,821 trees and gathered 128,973 pieces of wood while you were offline. You have received 2,171,921 experience points for the Basic Wood Chopping skill.]Just as the rest of the players were struggling to survive in the zombie apocalyptic game, Fang Heng's zombie clones were starting to clear every resource out of the forest.Hm... What an interesting game!

The new book “Elder Kinston Has Been Tricked Again” has been published, and everyone is welcome to check it out. It tells the story of the female protagonist's rebirth that shocks the dubbing world, featuring adorable kids and sweet romance!He is a cold and noble business emperor, and there is only one woman he pays attention to. Yet, this woman just looks down on him, trying to find ways to distance herself from him.“The only man you can care about is me.” The president's eyes were bright, quite beautiful.She protests!Unfortunately, the protest is ineffective. He loves her but refuses to let her bear their child. Her heart turns to ashes as she resolutely leaves.Six years later, a little girl holding a piggy bank appears before him, “Can you be my temporary daddy for a day? I can give you all my allowance.”Temporary daddy? To hell with it, those eyes of hers are exactly like his!

The only Paladin of the forgotten god, Nameless Chaos, and also the only Pope, Priest, and Worshipper.

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.”