The Village Girl Who Jinxes Her Husband Is Filthy Rich - Chapter 1550 - : A Stunning Wine Tasting Party

Transmigrated to be a Homewrecker?!Bai Yunyu was a sunny, nineteen years old who just got his first role as a small actor.However, a small unfortunate step on the road almost costed him his life!A strange, orange pupa shaped robot called Homewrecker System appeared in front of him and saved his life. It forced Yunyu to jump into many worlds to complete the task to be a Homewrecker between the main couple to save the world!Yunyu is a serious student, his objective is to save the world! But the target of each world seems to be attracted to him in some weird way.Yunyu: System! I feel like they fall in love with me easily, am I too handsome to handle?Pupa: No, you are just cheap.*****Hi! ForeverPupa here! ^u^)/This is a BL (Boys Love) Quick Transmigration novel with many worlds!There will be many weird setups for us to discover!Please expect:- 1v1 main ship.- Comedy and Angst blended into one!- Smut, Smut, and SMUTT!- PLOT TWIST.****Official Commissioned Cover.****Check my other novel!BL novels:- Homewrecker System (Completed)- Werewolf Prince is My New Pet! (Hiatus)- Gardenia of Blooming Desire (Completed)FL novels- Divorced My Scum Husband, Married His Evil Brother (Completed)- He Stole Me From my Deadbeat Husband (Completed)- Rent A Boyfriend (Completed)- She Becomes A Hot Sensation After Scandalous Affair**

“I am the rot in your foundation. I will crawl back from hell and bury this world.”Those were Red’s final words as his classmates—the people he once sought validation from—watched him dissolve. They stole his life force to fuel their own ascensions, becoming Paladins, Sages, and Kings. They threw his empty husk into the Abyss, satisfied the 'Terrorist's Son' was finally gone.But death was not the end. While his body lay broken in the abyss, his soul drifted to the sanctuary of a Forgotten God.Awakening the forbidden SSS-Rank Talent [Exponential Divinity - 100x Growth], Red realizes that in this world, power isn't given—it's built. He doesn't need heroes; he needs monsters.From the chitin of hyper-evolved insects to dragons, from eldritch horrors to the nightmares sleeping in the dark, he begins to construct a civilization that defies the natural order. Under his hand, the weak do not just survive—they evolve into calamities.The Heroes are leveling up in their golden towers. The Gods are watching from their thrones.But in the shadows, Red’s Strongest Civilization is already preparing for war.[Betrayed and sacrificed, I awakened an SSS-Rank Talent. While others struggle to build a village, my civilization grows 100x faster.]

I created a game character.Instead of taking several perks, I added restrictions.▶Restriction (I): “Curse of Sensory Seal”─Permanently seals a chosen sense.─Choice: Sight, Taste, Smell▶Restriction (II): “Curse of Short Life”─You are born with a body doomed to a short life.▶Restriction (III): “Curse of Silence”─Speaking causes you pain.When the next day came, I couldn’t see anything.

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.”