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... y hair was yearning for the texture of the quilt.

In a daze, I don't know what time I did it last night, and I don't know if I slept for a while just now.

She lay down close to the edge of the bed, because the air conditioner was on, this place was not as hot as her body, and she felt a little comfortable.

Su Chang, who was behind her, moved, put her arm around her on the pillow, passed her fingers through her hair, slightly touched the back of her head, and then grabbed her ...

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In her previous lifetime, they had married for five years. He meant everything to her, but she was thrown away like an old shoe.

After her rebirth, she gave him a divorce contract preemptively—

“Divorce after one year, the terms of the contract are as follows: husband and wife shall not share a room or bed. Intimacy forbidden?”

He raised his eyebrow.

Who knew that after she got drunk one day, leaning on the headboard, he rested his deep-set eyes on her. “You broke the contract, Mrs, Li.”

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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.”

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Suddenly, the unmarried twenty-year-old Ye Zhizhou had many more relatives, yet it was too late for him to clearly understand the circumstances as he nearly died in a car accident. After that, he somehow managed to survive and was even forcibly bound to a Salvation System.

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Harems destroy worlds! Preventing a harem will save them!

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Ok, prevent harems. After seeing the entire system introduction, the corners of Ye Zhizhou’s mouth twitched. In order to return home safely, he decisively began his risky journey—he’d just treat it as if he was playing a large-scale strategy game.

Since then, the people the protagonist would rescue, he rescued first.The businesses the protagonist would make, he made first. The little brother the protagonist would take in, he took in first. The cliff the protagonist would jump off of, he jumped off of first. The gay s*x the protagonist would have, he’d have. . . . Wait wait, can’t do this one, change it, let me change it.

???: No, you can do this one.

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Ye Zhizhou: . . . .

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