I Became A Side Character Fated To Suffer - Chapter 15:The Anarchy

This story takes place in Modern China. However, no matter how much things change, in the depths of society, a secret world of syndicates and hidden factions exist.

Yang Chen, a graduate from Harvard who is fluent in English, French, Italian, and German to list a few. He is also capable of fighting and a number of practical skills. Yet he chose to go on the streets to sell fried mutton skewers for a living.

Lin Ruoxi is the CEO of a multibillion-dollar company—Yu Lei International. This company is one of the leaders in the cosmetic and fashion industry. Despite being only 20 years old, her ice-cold demeanor and beauty are well-known and unrivaled in Zhonghai City.

Due to a wild night consisting of a lot of liquor, fate has brought them together to become husband and wife.

And with that, the story begins!

- Description from novelupdates

He is a legendary business powerhouse, a King with a business empire. She is just an ordinary female student. A deal, – a paper marriage, a marriage for four years. Four years later, she turned away fearlessly. She thought that their path would never cross again, but he took her in his stride and refused to let go of everything about her, even interfering with her getting close to other men!

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.”