MTL - Mercenaries and Adventurers - Chapter 14 , town - place to start

A dancer who was killed by a serial murderer found himself occupying the body and taking on the life of Brian Morse, a patient with anti-social personality disorder. As Brian, he has the look, he has the brain, he has the charisma, but he also has something that somehow always attracts psychopaths…[The story mentions 3 reality shows and crossovers with the American drama series Dexter. SLASH]

- Description from Novelupdates

Shen Herong, as the most capable handsome boy on the Red Street, is bound to the best male god system.
This journey was supposed to slap the villain in the face crazily, step on the protagonist, and reach the pinnacle of life, but things always went wrong.
#Who is the person who just received the protection fee for the hero and heroine? #
#Who threatened the high IQ villain to do his homework for him? #
#去女朋友家庭Who is the one who recommends himself as a little boy? #
Sorry, as a former bigwig on the red street, Shen Herong said: I have already washed my hands.
It is impossible to counterattack. Only by lying down and winning can you barely maintain your life.
The same type of male protagonist’s point of view “Extreme Male God [Quick Time Travel]” and “Super Male God [Quick Time Travel]”, you can watch it~

- Description from novelbuddy

Transmigrating to a lawless person and then directly upgrading to a little brat’s stepmother. Xiao Ting said, “Crap, there’s no need to even give birth to a child. God, I love you so much …”

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”