Evil Husband, Glutton Wife: Buy Miss Piggy, Get Free Little Buns - Chapter 848 - Finale: Zhang Jiren x Li Meili (4)

To reward Meng Fan for his bravery before his heroic death, the cosmos rewarded him with a ‘system’, sending him back in time to three months ago, alive.

All Chu Lian had done was to read a book where the female lead had cheated on her wonderful husband. While wondering why, before she knew it, she was waking up in the body of that very same female lead!

Wait, did that mean the handsome husband from the book was hers now? Chu Lian decided to welcome him with open arms!

However, what she got wasn’t the kind husband she had been expecting. Instead, his personality seemed to have been completely flipped! He left her all alone on their wedding night… and just five days into their marriage, her dear husband abandoned his loving wife and left to enlist in the army!

Fine! Be that way! She could pass her days perfectly well somehow, even if she had to do it alone!

Chu Lian put her household in order, charmed the rest of her new family, and did a little business on the side. She even opened up some new trade routes! Her days passed peacefully and leisurely… Until her dear husband got into trouble at the frontline of the war.

Hmph, isn’t he crawling back to me for help in the end? Forget it, I’ll go save him myself!

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.”