I will eventually become a divine being through accumulating constantly - Chapter 25 - Channeling Energy, Kicking the Pavilion

Though it felt a little awkward to be my good brother’s aunt, it was really exciting to find out how handsome and rich his uncle was.

- Description from Novelupdates

Lee Shin was the first ever human to climb the 100th floor of the tower refused to accept the god’s offer to become their apostle and died while fighting them.

As punishment, the gods reversed time, erased his existence, and made him a helpless boss of the tower’s 1st floor, Jean Ebrium, whose only goal was to die.

However, after dying countless times, Lee Shin obtained a strange sphere that restored his memories. Lee Shin’s story to take revenge on the gods and free humanity has just begun!

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After a surprise call about divorce, she finds herself in a whirlwind of emotions with her estranged husband.Caught between her father's illness and the her husband's family's expectations, she faced a decision to part ways with her aloof husband.~~~~~Three years of marriage, her husband never came home.But she's happy with it - because she secretly worked as his private chef.During the day, she receives a high monthly salary from him, manipulated and at his beck and call.At night, she's his little wife alone in an empty room every night, enjoying his luxurious seaside villa.Brimming with money and leisure yet her husband never came home, she was extremely content with her life.Until he caught her and pushed her against the bed, “Mrs, you've had your fun, isn't it my turn now?”

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.”