Wild Princess: Marrying an Ugly Prince - Chapter 252 - The Three-day Deadline

In her past life Gu Wei Wei’s heart was dug out by the man she loved, and transplanted into her best friend’s body. However, after rebirth she become Hua country’s number one conglomerate, Fu Han Zheng’s little girlfriend. She is being careful trying to take revenge against the people that hurt her. He protects her everywhere, pamper her to the extreme. Everyone said that Fu Han Zheng is cold and without emotion. That perfect husband that everyday tease her until she blushes and her heart beat, pamper her regardless anything, is it a fake husband?

Through a chaotic world rife with war, where demons roamed freely, he found himself in the body of the patriarch of the Luo family, whose life was nearing its end, with one foot already in the grave.Just after arriving, he was about to die?What kind of mortal suffering was this?Just as Luo Changfeng felt bewildered and on the brink of despair, he discovered that he could actually consume the vital energy of the Luo Family members to increase his attributes.A little tap, and his lifespan grew.A little tap, and his cultivation soared.A little tap, and his cultivation technique reached perfection.Thus, Luo Changfeng embarked on a path of empowering his family, continually drawing upon their vitality to strengthen himself.

I was a 28-year-old researcher in Japan, and before I knew it, I have been reincarnated in a fantasy world.

Furthermore, I had a half-spirit father and a spirit mother.

An aunt who is deeply attached to father, cousins who are problem children. Girls who cause awkward situations as in an otome.

Furthermore, in order to gain the affection of a love interest, a cousin even had a word battle with a king!

I am very busy helping humans as well as spirits!

And when I find people who are targeting my father,

「I’ll crush you.」

The cheat protagonist deters those who aim at her family. This is such a story.

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.”