The Peasant Wife Is a Lucky Charm - Chapter 629 - : Chronic Poison

Year one of the New Era, the Demon King was defeated by the Hero, divided into thirteen parts, and sealed all over the world. Only the soul can reincarnate and be reborn.Year sixteen of the New Era, in the tavern of a small town on the border, a young maid named Mohe sees a middle-aged man who only brags to deceive people for drinking money. However, she knows better than anyone that he was the Hero who defeated her and split her into thirteen parts.“The former Demon King is now wearing maid clothes and working as a server here?”“The great Hero sir, instead of being affectionate with your harem group, you bark here like a stray dog, deceiving for food and drink. How is that different from a beggar?”

One day, when she was bored, Qingyun edited the scenes of herself marrying different heroines in various lines while playing fan games.

Who would have thought that it would then travel through, and the video appeared all over the world!

Game Hinata: Qingyun-kun, please take care of me in the future…

Hinata: ?G? So I-I will marry Qingyun-kun!

By the way, I mixed the original movie version of Naruto who was kissed by the ghouls several times by the villain.

Everyone: It turns out that Naruto likes the big sister.

Naruto: No, I’m not, I don’t…

besides.

Game Fireworks: Lord Husband, give me some advice for the rest of my life!

Hyuga Sunzu: Boy, you are not satisfied with marrying Hinata, yet you still…

At this time, the video showed Qingyun and Madara dancing, splitting the mountains and the ground, and transforming the map.

There is also Hinata Fireworks, and the sisters join forces to split the moon.

Hizu: … You know, the marriage contract of Hana is destined in the future, please respect the future.

…

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”