Reborn as Tycoon's Wife in the Countryside - Chapter 513 - 404 Maybe there is some misunderstanding_3

“I hope you don’t fall in love with me, because I won’t be taking responsibility,” warned the young man. “Don’t worry, I won’t fall in love with a body double,” the employer dully replied. Yet, both of them forgot what they had said.

After Lin Zisheng, whose whole family was ruined by a white lotus, woke up once more, he discovered that his mind now had an additional so-called ‘system.’

Lin Zisheng: hehe… …

And so…

System: cho-chotto matte! Host-daren, that is the white lotus we are supposed to save, y-you can’t force her onto the road of no return!

Lin Zisheng: An early death means an early reincarnation, I am freeing her from endless suffering.

System: … … [Host’s words are highly logical, I actually have no words to retort…QAQ]

#Early Every Morning I Wake Up And See Host Pushing Male Lead Down A Pit#

#Host Keeps Trying To Squash Target To Death, What To Do, Waiting Online, Urgent!#

#Please Spare That Little White Lotus, She Is Still A child#

#Male Lead-sama, Your Female Lead Is Over There, Please Let Go Of My Host QAQ#

#Why Male Lead Getting Bent Unprovoked#

Also…

#Every Morning Also Sees The System Being Silly (Seeking Death)#

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”

In the waves of steam and machinery, who could achieve extraordinary? In the fogs of history and darkness, who was whispering? I woke up from the realm of mysteries and opened my eyes to the world.