A Billion Dollar Exchange - Chapter 181: There is a package for you

Luo Lin Yuan was born delicate, with a big temper, a hard character, and a good face.

Yu Han is straight, good-tempered, and soft, and only sleeps three hours a day.

Yu Han didn’t want Luo Lin Yuan near him.

But Luo Lin Yuan wanted to be around him.

This is an innocent, sweet campus story in which Little Princess Luo went to great lengths to make friends.

Abstinent, Poor Gong x Obsessed with Cleanliness Little Princess Shou.

- Description from Novelupdates

Song Yi found herself transmigrated into a novel, becoming the female protagonist of an old-school Mary Sue story.Gentle, kind, beautiful, and graceful, she was the unattainable ideal in everyone’s heart. The aloof top student fell from his pedestal for her sake, while the reclusive young man fought against his family for her.All of this sounded quite nice, but there was just one problem – this novel had a bad ending!!!

[Mature Content] Divorced and in debt, Elena decides to become the contract wife of three rich and famous men. A fair exchange begins between a woman disillusioned about love and men with their own demands and desires. But when they demand for more than her body, she discovers many dark truths as the past slowly catches up to her.

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.”