Flower Stealing Master - Chapter 394: Women’s Thoughts (2)

Ling Jing Shu lived with humiliation and heavy burdens all her life, and only at the moment before death, she suddenly woke up and repented. If god gives her a chance to live for a second time, she will say three words to the man who let her down: You Get Lost!!

- Description from Novelupdates

This is a story about Sylvia and Fred.
I think young people should be high-spirited and wanton.
Everyone is growing up, but even though things are changing, those young people with love still shine, illuminating the galaxy and the world.
There is one sentence I agree with:
The Weasley Twins are the most Gryffindor boys I’ve ever seen.
They are brave and free.
I long for the light of twins, so I have this story.
Who wouldn’t want to be incarcerated at Hogwarts Nightcrawler with the Weasleys?
Don’t argue, you think.
This is the story of a silly college student crossing hp
I’m here to raise my head to guarantee a happy ending! Save all the troubles! No worries! What is it?
There are many private settings, all ooc belong to me.
I hope you love Little Sill as much as I do.

Content tags: Anglo-American derivation Soul transformation Traveling through time and space Traveling through books
Search keywords: Protagonist: Sylvia Tonks, Fred Weasley ┃ Supporting roles: George Weasley, Hoddle Waughlin, Draco Malfoy, HP everyone ┃ Others:

- Description from novelbuddy

“The war is finally over?! Then, what am I going to do with my life?” Caedrel, a man who had spent his entire life fighting, had no idea what to do next. Fortunately, he was offered to become a teacher in the greatest academy in the world. However, he wouldn’t be a normal teacher but a spy for his country’s Emperor! Doesn’t sound too bad, right? Well, it would have been great, that is…until he learned that his class was for the most talented(weird) students in the entire world.

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.”