Conquering The Game's World - Chapter 218: Olivia’s Investigation!

Afterlife wasn't something that he had thought about, or maybe he had, the downside of being thrust into a new world with your memories wiped and having no recollections of any dreams was disorienting....but then again he chose this path, now in a sexualized version of the original novel. How much can magic, which depends on strong emotions could be driven by Lust and Desire?Warning! The story contains and centers around Smut, there is plenty of plot to go around, but if you want to avoid the smut entirely, it might be a little difficult!!

A princess's duty is to be beautiful, quiet, not loud, to be seen and not to be heard, which was how Dahlia lived most of her life. Bound by the expectations of her title, she spent years trying to prove to her father that she was more than just a princess and capable of being more than an ornament in his court but each time she never got the chance. Instead, she was forced into a marriage of convenience with the bravest knight in all the kingdom, Reagan Hawthorne.Dahlia thought she would use this marriage to escape the brutal crutches of her father and glide out of her cage but Reagan’s cold disdain was an unexpected prison of its own. While he waged wars on distant lands, she stayed behind, holding his household together and protecting the people he seemed to ignore. But Dahlia carried a dangerous secret. By day, she was the perfect wife. By night, she became the “Black Knight,” a masked vigilante fighting for justice in the shadows.Reagan returned, ready to focus on his personal mission: avenging his father’s death. To him, Dahlia was just another pawn in his plans—a spoiled princess he needed to tolerate. But as cracks began to form in her perfect façade, Reagan couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his wife than met the eye.Now, with enemies circling closer and their secrets threatening to collide, Dahlia and Reagan must confront the lies they’ve told themselves and each other. But when masks fall and truths are revealed, will their fragile bond withstand the storm—or will it shatter beyond repair?One wound. One secret. One night that changes everything.

Lin Wei and Zong Shao had an arranged marriage. They had been separated for four years, so much so that they had two children, but the husband and wife were no closer than ordinary friends.
Lin Wei thought that she and Zong Shao would be a plastic husband and wife for the rest of their lives. It was not until she had a dream on the way with the army that she realized that her husband was Bai Yueguang, who the female protagonist could not ask for in the age text.
And she is the white moonlight of the white moonlight.
In the novel, they are married, and the husband and wife are in love. After her untimely death, he missed her all his life and never married again.
After waking up from the dream, Lin Wei thoughtfully looked at the expressionless man in front of her and thought:
It turns out that he loves me so much, so I should love him a little too.
*First get married and then fall in love, raise a baby on the island, and write short texts in the parents’ room.

Content tags: Romance of the Times Sweet Text Shuangwen
Search keywords: Protagonist: Lin Wei, Zong Shao ┃ Supporting role: ┃ Others:

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”