Master's Beautiful And Confident Wife - Chapter 112

A black pearl brought Jiang Feng from a doomsday stage where top masters with one emperor, two emperors, three emperors, four deities, and seven peerless cities show off their glory to parallel time and space, and this time and space-the end of the world has not yet opened! !! Under the sky, the youth look up, if I have strength, can I get through … these two time and space! !!

- Description from 69shu

Mysterious identity, three fathers to recognize, space in her left hand, a prince in her right.Building wealth, making big bucks, she never goes easy on the scum, and there's always someone to back her up in a fight.Xie Zhinuan thought, this life is just too sweet, it's not her fault she's so lucky.As for those losers, she really didn't want to fight them, but they asked for a beating by messing with her.All she wanted was to focus on her business, never thinking about marriage, especially not to someone so high-ranking and powerful... too scary, just too scary...Lately, what everyone was curious about was, “Did the Emperor succeed in his confession today?”

In a world where omegas are at the top of the social hierarchy, Lee Jiyeon, a female chef from the 21st century, finds herself transmigrated into the body of a poor Alpha girl in a world ruled by omegaverse dynamics.Upon awakening, Jiyeon discovers she has not only inherited the Alpha body but also a marriage contract with the tyrant Yura, making matters more complicated.In this new world, Jiyeon's culinary skills are not just a passion but a valuable asset. She gains a Culinary System that helps her rise from rags to riches.

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.”