Substitute Marriage: Reborn As The Top Big-Shot - Chapter 15 - 015: Never thought it would actually be Viola Thompson in my wildest dreams!

Deemed hopeless by her family and that she was better off married when her fourth novel continued to be a flop, aspiring author Xiang Wan begins to doubt herself. While feeling conflicted about continuing her dream as an author, things take an unexpected turn when a dazzling guy appears before her and takes her to the police station.

Imagine being forced to live, after death, as incorporeal bodies trapped in a vast space of nothingness for thousands of years, with nothing to do but exchanging past memories with other cohabitants (read: weirdos). Everybody wanted out, but there was no way to leave the Void…

Liszt finds himself reborn as a countryside baron in an alternate world resembling medieval Europe. In this world, there are dragons that can discharge metals, elves that can tend to crops, and missions written in mist that only Liszt can see. With the help of the mysterious missions, can Liszt gradually grow from Baron of Flower Town into something greater, claiming the whole continent and beyond?

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.”