You Might Die If I Cast My Healing Spell - Chapter 450 - Battle Points Must Be Fair (II)

Getting the [Boosted Gear] is expected for Issei. What if he gained it a month early and another one as well? Let the Games Begin... IsseiXHarem (if it wasn't, it wouldn't be DXD). Now has a TVTropes page! Getting the [Boosted Gear] is expected for Issei. What if he gained it a month early and another one as well? Let the Games Begin... IsseiXHarem (if it wasn't, it wouldn't be DXD). Now has a TVTropes page!

Li Yubing and Tang Xue were deskmates throughout the whole six years of primary school. After being plagued by Tang Xue for the entirety of this period, Li Yubing saw his chance and broke free with his secondary school selection. With no contact for yet another six years, who knew that Tang Xue and Li Yubing would one day meet again in university…

- Description from Novelupdates

MC (female protagonist) dies in a plane crash and wakes up in the body of a beautiful but corrupt and lascivious prime minister in ancient times, Zhang Qinglian. As circumstances decree, he (she) cannot reveal that the original owner’s soul is gone else calamity might occur. So he (she) decides to walk a righteous path, determined to help the lovely but simple little emperor rule the country. Not backing down after facing torture, not losing courage, destroying rebellions and facing off with scheming princes.

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.”