The Rebirth Of An Ill-Fated Consort - Chapter 124 - : Each One’s Fated Marriage

The day Louis discovered his girlfriend's betrayal, he died from a gunshot wound to the head. Fortunately, fate smiled on him and allowed him to be reincarnated in a magical world as the youngest son of an SSS-class family.That same day, he awakened his Class—an event that should have marked the beginning of his rise.Instead, it marked his downfall.[Ding! You have awakened an SSS-Rank Class.][Class: God of Money][Rank: SSS]A god? Yes, that's beautiful. But a god of money? In the eyes of his proud family, that title was a joke—an insult. The weakest, most useless Class imaginable.So, they banished him, stripped him of the family name, and cast him aside without a second thought.But they were unaware of his skill, abilities, and the potential that money could bring.He smiled as he saw himself banished and looked at the system.“If you fire me, it's okay. I'll keep creating missions even if I end up in a garbage dump, and I'll come back for your heads someday.”Two system messages flashed before him.[Your actions generate money, and money makes you stronger.][You have the ability to create missions.]Under the influence of his newly acquired Class, he will delve into all the magical paths this world offers, become embroiled in political intrigue, and conquer kingdoms on his own.“Money? I'm the God. Women?” That's fine—I have plenty.

Zixu woke up to find himself in the world of *Naruto*.Too weak to survive? No problem—he has the Kaido template.Unfamiliar with the *Naruto* world and clueless about ninjutsu? No worries—devouring Sarutobi Hiruzen's soul will take care of that.Caught in the constant battles between ninja villages and struggling to protect himself? Simple—just start his own teaching faction.Lacking manpower? Short on talent? Easy—swing the hoe well, and no corner is too deep to dig.

'Dregs' reborn, aiming for a harmonious marriage, children gathered around the knees, and to beat up the scumbags and promiscuous women!The timid and unlucky her, turned life into a sigh, also causing that person and her children to become tragic figures.Reborn, she wants to engrave strength into her bones!Disasters one after another, difficult to fill the belly?No fear, with our Plant Ability in hand, seeds can turn into rice ears in minutes, and white rice and flour can be made at will!Ungrateful brats?Hmph, the education starts from the womb, determined to make them keep gratitude in their hearts.High-class women unable to give birth want to steal our children?Hehe, the woman rolled up her sleeves and sneered: Those not afraid to die, come and fight!Loyal dog: Wife, how can dirty work like fighting soil your hands? Leave it to me!Little radishes one, two, three, four, five, six all lift sticks: We are here too, we are here too, Mom, we brothers are all on the same vine with you!

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.”