PREVIEW

...

“I said give it a try. I’m curious to see what happens.”

“No, really… I just told you. The Duke won’t let you off. You’ll lose your inheritance rights. Don’t you understand that?”

“Will you even be able to say anything?”

Aria clamped her mouth shut, as if daring him to speak more.

“Your family’s secret might leak, you know.”

Even though the current timeline couldn’t be seen by a player, I knew Aria’s weak spot. Why was she making dangerous deals wi ...

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Transmigrating to the disciples of the Demon Sect, and relying on the skill modifier to become a giant of the Demon Dao.

[Detected the technique “Blood Nerve”, relying on devouring blood to practice]

[Side effects: easily affected by the spirit contained in the blood, becoming bloodthirsty, bloodthirsty, mad, and even brain dead]

[Please wait a moment, the system is being modified…]

[Ding! The modification is complete, and the side effects are cancelled]

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MTL - I’ve Transmigrated Into This Movie BeforeChapter 176 Fanwai Lantern Night Talk [Next]
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– Question: “What is scarier than the personal experience of transmigrating into a horror movie?”

Anonymous: “Transmigrating into a movie you’ve never seen before.”

– “Poor comment! There’s nothing scary about that!”

Anonymous reply: “You sure? Can you be sure your dad isn’t a murderer? Can you be certain your spouse isn’t out to kill you for insurance money? Can you even be certain there isn’t any hidden lethal weapon in your son’s lunchbox? The scariest thing is that you have never seen this movie before so, you have absolutely no idea of any ‘surprise’ that awaits you ahead!”

Hence, this novel is also called .

A line to sum it up: The female lead transmigrates into various movie adaptations of real stories, and conquers the audience.

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MTL - After Emptying the Enemy’s Warehouse, He Carried Supplies To Survive the Disaster YearsChapter 472 do whatever you want
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Ace bodyguard Ziyu encountered the worst time travel in history——

In the beginning, the father was unjustly killed, the mother was angered to death, the family property was taken over by the nobles of the Hou family, and a two-year-old brother was left behind to be fed.

?Fortunately, her own space is still there, but unfortunately only ten acres of dry fish ponds, two multi-functional agricultural machines, two villas, and an 800-square-meter steel basement are left.

No matter how powerful your palace is, I will move all your property into the space.

Cloth, embroidery, furs, ready-made clothes, shoes, all collected;

Medicinal materials, grains, cakes, chickens, ducks and fish are all collected;

Groceries, porcelain, jade, curios, calligraphy and paintings, all collected.

Like locusts passing by, leaving nothing behind.

Empty tens of millions of taels of gold and silver from the enemy’s treasury, and by the way expose his true face of rebellion, and then escape.

When natural disasters strike, including floods, snowstorms, and wolf smoke, Ziyu is able to dominate and ensure safety…

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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.”